


Once More

by Kagemirai, Ranranbolly



Category: Lost Boys (1987), Lost Boys (Movies)
Genre: Bloodlust, Cults, Deceit, F/M, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Suicidal Thoughts, Torture, Vampire Turning, Vampires, because vampires are evil, blood-drinking, boardwalk, scaring children, they're pretty much the same thing, trickery, vampire, youth groups
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-11 06:27:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 45,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7880056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kagemirai/pseuds/Kagemirai, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ranranbolly/pseuds/Ranranbolly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael thought he was strong enough to cope with nearly becoming a monster, but sometimes guilt has a way of driving a person to make stupid choices, and you really should always be careful what you wish for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A month. That was how long it had been since they took Laddie home. Since they'd killed the boys and Max. Since they'd welcomed Star to stay with her, and Michael had been content to share a pallet on the ground in his bedroom until he could replace the mattress.

It was almost too long. She had to go.

He was asleep now, a fall of curls covering one eye while his left arm was splayed out where she'd been trying to relax beside him. But she just couldn't. He wasn't...she was afraid of Michael now. He was too much like _them_. He had an aura of strangeness about him now, the same malice that the boys tended to exude, Michael did as well. He had come back from his experiences changed, different. Although he was human now, it didn't feel like he really was. Even the way he held her, the tenderness was gone. He was rough. Sometimes even desperate. Like he already _knew_ she could see the monster in him, that she didn't plan to stay.

It was now or never. He was a light sleeper...a few more minutes, and he'd probably wake up.

"Mmh," he groaned, rolling over and curling an arm under his pillow. The moonlight filtering in through the bedroom window shone silver on his skin. She felt guilty leaving like this, a thief in the night, but Star knew if she stuck around she'd just go crazy. So maybe it was partly her fault that he was like this now, but she knew she'd go crazy if she stayed. They both had to move past what happened. The only way they'd even have a chance of that...well...the only way they'd do that was if they parted ways. Maybe some day she'd visit, and come back to him. Maybe.

She didn't leave a note. By morning, all Michael would have to remember her by was the lingering scent of lavender and rosemary oil. That, and an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach when he realised she was gone.

* * *

"Mike!" Sam got right down by his ear before yelling, "WAKE UP!" He jerked back quickly, knowing the kind of reaction his brother had whenever he was woken up.

"Jesus Christ, Sammy!" He groaned, jerking up and blindly swinging out a fist, missing him, "the hell is your problem?" Michael grabbed his pillow and aimed it at Sam's head, then arched his back to stretch, "where's Star?" He yawned.

He shrugged, ducking the pillow, "No idea."

Michael frowned, "you didn't see her outside or anything?"

He scowled, "I'm not a babysitter, maybe she went for a walk. Just, get up, it's too late out to be sitting around doing nothing. Lazy."

He glared at his younger brother, "I'm not taking you to the comic shop today, dork. You nearly busted my eardrum."

That got his attention, "Come on, I'm sorry, gee, don't be like that, I'll buy you a hotdog or something." He rubbed the back of his neck, "Please, just take me!"

"Yeah, with that fat stack of cash you keep in your back pocket? Get out of my room so I can get some pants on and I'll think about it," Michael climbed to his feet and moved to shove Sam towards the door. He'd let his little brother stew for awhile, maybe that would teach him not to scream his wake-up calls on a Saturday.

Locking the door behind him, Michael knelt down to roll up his pallet, glaring over at his empty bed frame. A few more weeks, and maybe he'd get around to picking up a box spring and mattress from a garage sale or something. Odd jobs could only cover so much, and he was still in the process of helping grandpa fix up the house. Vampires were, without a doubt, the worst guests. The drains still reeked of garlic and dead bodies.

His morning only got worse, however, when Michael snatched a pair of jeans and a shirt from his closet, and noticed Star's clothes were gone.

* * *

Sam was out the door like a bullet, better not to stay on his brother's bad side. Apparently he was in one of his 'moods' this morning. Not that he wasn't pretty much like that all of the time now. Sometimes he didn't even recognize his brother these days. Maybe killing off those vampires had done more damage than good. He looked back toward the closed door, nah, he just needed some more time to get over it, almost becoming a vampire had to be traumatizing, right? He shrugged, heading downstairs, he'd harass him about it later, right now there was a bowl of Lucky Charms waiting for him.

Grandpa was hovering at the kitchen fridge, scratching his chest and mumbling to himself. As per the usual morning routine. The next thing Sam knew, the old man was digging into the fridge and pulling out the milk carton to take a hearty swig right from the opening, spots of milk dribbling over his bristled chin. Maybe Lucky Charms weren't such a great idea this morning.

"Your ma went out to that record store today," Grandpa informed him. He hadn't even looked at Sam once, and somehow knew he was there. "Said she's taking up the morning shifts now."

Sam rolled his eyes, "And she couldn't take me into town too? Why didn't she say something?" He made a face at the milk drips on the floor, he still wanted that cereal, maybe he could do it without milk…

"Said you were too busy talking to those friends of yours this morning, didn't want to bother you," he replied with a throaty chuckle, "you gotta wash my car today anyways. Buff some of that sand off you got all over the hood on your joyride last month."

Sam grumbled, "But I wanted to go look at the new comics that came in." He whined, glaring at him, "Fine." He crossed his arms over his chest. Monster basher. One of the saviors of Santa Carla. He'd probably prevented god knows how many more deaths...and here he was, being treated like a little kid. This sucked.

Grandpa shoved the carton back in the fridge and turned around just as Michael was stalking into the kitchen. The look on his face was enough to guarantee he probably wasn't going to be fun to hang around today. Actually, come to think of it, he looked even more moody than he'd been lately. Maybe cleaning the car wouldn't be so bad after all.

"I'm gonna be out late tonight," he tossed over his shoulder as he began to dig through the cupboards for a plate. "Don't wait up, Sam."

"Why're you so moody?" Maybe he shouldn't have asked but dammit, his brother was being a dick and he wanted to know why.

He remained silent as he dug out a frying pan and snatched a carton of eggs from the fridge, and they were half-cooked by the time he even looked back at Sam, "Star left," he shrugged. Great. That meant he was probably going to murder their ears with his crappy ballad rock he always listened to after a breakup. That's what the old Mike would've done, anyway. Part of him hoped that's what the new Mike would do too because that would mean he was still his brother.

"So, umm, what're you planning on doing, going out?" He had to at least appear interested, right? Besides, if mom asked he needed to have something to tell her. Hopefully this time he wouldn't make friends with a bunch of psychotic blood-suckers.

"I don't know," Michael replied, scooping his eggs onto a plate and sprinkling them liberally with pepper, "you want some?" Pulling anything else out of him today was going to be like pulling teeth. So far, this was actually one of his chattier mornings, though.

"Yeah, thanks, grandpa was drinking out of the milk carton."

"My house," grandpa added in as he shuffled from the kitchen, "drink from whatever damn carton I want to."

Michael snorted, cracking two eggs into the pan, "you're gonna have to start stocking up milk from school if you want to keep it for yourself...you know, I actually found a piece of hair on the carton last week."

Sam looked at grandpa in horror, "You desecrated the milk with hair?! That's just gross!"

The old man grunted, stalking into his workshop and closing the door behind him.

Michael scooped Sam's eggs onto a plate, "god knows what kind of hair it was, either," he said in mock terror and placed Sam's food in front of him. He grinned, punching his little brother in the shoulder, "you never know…he's lived alone for a _long_ time, Sam..."

"That's not funny man." He shook his head, honestly it was good to see him like this though. He mock sniffed, "So mean."

"Just picture it," Michael grabbed his own plate and flopped down into a chair beside him, reaching out to ruffle Sam's hair, "candlelight. Sexy music. Dead possums in the corner...and just grandpa and the milk carton…no one else around to judge them..." He snatched up a fork and took a large bite of egg. "Oh, I bet he even takes the milk with him when he goes to see that old lady, huh? Mixes things up?"

"That's disgusting! You are so gross, Mike!" He gagged, eggs weren't looking so great anymore.

Michael rolled his eyes, "your best friend is a furry monster who spends most of his free time licking his crotch." He paused, "and then there's Nanook," he added, taking a jab at either Ed or Alan. Probably Ed. Nanook perked up from beneath the kitchen table, sniffing at Sam's fork as he tucked it beneath the table to feed him. His tongue darted out to snatch up the slimy morsel with glee.

"Yeah, well, at least my…" Sam stopped, it wouldn't do to bring up the undead menaces, his brother was already touchy enough as it is.

His brother narrowed his eyes, setting his fork down, "your what?" He leaned to the side, digging into his jeans pocket to pull something out while he waited for an answer.

He shook his head, "Nothing, was gonna be an insensitive jerk and decided against it."

"Uhuh," he snorted, handing Sam a small crumpled piece of paper, "this is mom's number at the record store. I'll give you a ride if you want, but you're gonna have to get her to give you a lift home if you don't want to hang out with the comic geeks until midnight."

He nodded, taking the paper, "Thanks." He paused, "I hope you have fun tonight."

"Right. Fun. I'll see if I can do that," Michael smirked sardonically, "hurry up and eat your eggs. You want some milk to chase it down?"

He gave him the finger and finished his eggs quickly, "Dude, so not cool."

* * *

He kept on a plastered smile. Half of one, anyway, until he'd ditched Sam on the boardwalk. It wasn't like he didn't know he was giving everyone a hard time. Michael was pretty much constantly aware of how different he was acting. He was trying to act normal, doing his best to pretend there was nothing wrong. It just wasn't _that_ easy, and Sam, mom, even Grandpa...they didn't need to know what he was thinking. He had a demon on his back, and it was never going to climb off.

God, he'd felt _different_ when they killed the old bastard responsible for the mess, but that was only physical. He'd gotten rid of the monster he was becoming, but he hadn't gotten rid of the thoughts. The feelings. The fact that every night he pretty much woke up re-living dreams of the slaughter he'd seen on the beach, remembering exactly how he'd felt watching David and the others tear into those people, _laughing,_ painting their own skins with the blood like they were bathing in the stuff. He'd been horrified, and at the same time...a small part of him, which grew with the passing minutes up until he'd been human again...that part of him was fascinated.

The fact that he had wanted to do it...well, that was enough to pretty much torment him for the rest of his life. He'd wanted to taste blood, to enjoy it. To bathe in it just like the others had. How do you just turn your back on yourself? How do you pretend you're not a monster, when you pretty much know that's _exactly_ what you really are? Or could be?

Star was supposed to _stay_ , though. She was supposed to be there, to talk to, and remind him he wasn't the only person left scarred by his near brush with death in the most fucking literal way possible. But she left. She _left._ Now he was alone again, and god he just wished he could pretend nothing had ever happened.

Michael left his bike parked at the edge of the boardwalk. There was only one thing he could do today to make himself feel better...and that was to get thoroughly, disgustingly, sickeningly plastered.

One good thing about the changes in his personality and thoughts was that no one carded him anymore. It seemed like they were too afraid of what he might do to risk angering him. Michael wasn't an idiot. He'd seen himself in the mirror. He looked mean. Never mind the fact that he never actually did anything, the threat was there.

"Thanks," he mumbled, grabbing his six-pack from the counter and heading out of the liquor store. Okay, so it wasn't the hard stuff, but he wasn't really in the mood for an ulcer tonight. You paired Jack with the music thumping at the beach concert, you were asking for trouble.

He couldn't escape the noise and the music but he could sit himself down on the beach and watch the ocean and avoid some of the heavier bass and questions from 'concerned' adults. Last time he had done this he had been left alone but tonight, of course he couldn't be so lucky. He had just opened his second beer when someone walked up to him and stole one of his beers out of the six pack before starting to walk away.

Michael cussed, digging a small hole in the sand to prop up his can of bear before climbing to his feet, and stalking after the guy to grab a fistful of his shirt and spin him around, "you pay for that, dickface?"

The guy let out a snort, taking a big drink, "No, what're you gonna do about it?"

Seriously? What was this asshole's problem? Michael clenched his fist and summoned up a thin-lipped smile, "I'm going to ask you _nicely_ to give it back."

He took another drink, seemingly unafraid, "Fuck you."

It happened before he even knew what he was doing. On a particularly shitty day, in a particularly shitty week, Michael had finally had enough of holding himself back. One second, he thought he was just going to stop after breaking the guy's nose, and then he was actively gripping him by the collar, kneeling over him, punching repeatedly until he was pulling back bloodied knuckles, his knees coated in wet sand tinted pink. Michael kept wailing on him until the guy stopped moving, and the remaining dregs of his stolen beer had long drained into the ground beside them.

"Oh god," Michael finally managed to regain himself, stumbling back and scrambling away from the unconscious man. "Oh god…" He looked about wildly, digging his hands into his hair and squeezing his mouth shut tight to keep from screaming. _What had he done?!_

Then Michael heard the sound of clinking metal, rustling leather, and for one insane moment he thought he saw _them_ standing on a hill of beach sand overlooking the scene. All of them, looking down at him and smiling as if he had just done the greatest thing in the world, approving of his violence and near murder.

He stared back at the phantoms, his nightmare come back to life if only for a few short insane seconds, and then he blinked. They were gone. But the bloodied mess of a man at his feet wasn't. He didn't stick around to identify the guy when he dropped him off at the hospital. Didn't even stop to tell them what happened. Nor did he sleep that night. He spent the rest of it staring out of his bedroom window, counting the hours until dawn. Michael had to do something. If he didn't he was either going to lose it again and kill someone, or even hurt his own family. He wasn't going to let that happen.

* * *

Grandpa sat at the kitchen table, waiting for Michael to finally come downstairs. He'd been waiting since he saw the light on all night. He wanted to make sure that he was the first person to talk to the young man today.

He'd already given Lucy some advice to take her youngest out for lunch, get out of the house and enjoy themselves for a bit. She'd told him on more than one occasion that she had trouble dragging anything out of Michael these days besides a mumbled excuse or empty promise that he was doing just fine. If that were the case, he'd have started his Senior year like he was supposed to, not spent all of his time moping and hiding from everyone. From his family.

"Grandpa?" Michael walked into the kitchen, drawing to a stop when he saw the look on the old man's face, "thought you were supposed to go to the widow's place today." The boy hadn't slept a wink, and the rings around his eyes were telling.

"Not today, wanna have a talk with you, sit down."

He lingered in the doorway, crossing his arms, "what's this about?"

"You need to find a hobby." There, he came right out and said it.

Michael scowled, raising his shoulders in a helpless shrug, "...I've got hobbies. I've got a weight set...I've got hobbies." He looked uneasy. Like he was about to bolt for it at any second if the old man let him. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

"You're not fine, I understand how you're feeling, how rough it is, but you need something to occupy your mind. Why do you think I took up taxidermy?" He questioned, "Come sit down."

He lingered, seemed to be debating whether he'd actually listen, and his grandfather had half a mind to repeat himself, when Michael finally reluctantly trailed into the kitchen and picked a chair opposite him. "I don't think a hobby is gonna help me, now, grandpa," he said quietly, scratching at a spot on the table, frowning.

"Why do you think that when you haven't even bothered to try?"

His eyes darted up to the old man's face and then back down at the spot on the table, "doesn't really matter." There was a disturbing finality in his tone of voice, which was a lot more concerning than his behavior had been.

"Explain." One word orders seemed to get through to him better than anything else and he wasn't in the mood to draw it out.

"Well," Michael licked his bottom lip as he shifted in his seat and slumped back, "I got in a fight, grandpa. A real bad one. I don't think a hobby's gonna fix what I did. What I could do...I'm not the same anymore, and I'm scared." He looked back up at him, "I don't want to hurt anyone."

"Michael…" Well, that wasn't what he expected and honestly he wasn't sure what he could say to that. He paused thoughtfully, "Then don't. _Choose_ not to hurt anyone. It's gonna take work and willpower but you're a tough kid, you can do it if you set your mind to it."

"Choose?" Michael repeated, straightening up, "yeah…" There was an odd look in his eyes, "yeah, that's what I was gonna do. I'm gonna choose, grandpa. Not gonna hurt anybody again if I can help it." He nodded, standing up and shoving the chair back under the table. As he left the kitchen, he paused in the doorway without looking back, "I love you guys, grandpa. Just...just so you know. I don't want you to worry about me."

"Don't go doing anything stupid, Michael." He scowled, he was going to do something stupid, wasn't he? He'd have to have a long talk with Lucy tonight. Maybe the boy was going to need more help than he knew.

* * *

Sometimes muscle memory does the work for you when you're not sure where to go. He knew he didn't want to go to the boardwalk again, and maybe it'd be better if he stayed away from the beach for awhile until he got his head straight. Being around people right now...Michael wasn't really sure he could handle it. His temper was getting the better of him, and he'd pretty much figured it out after he'd nearly killed an idiot over a can of shitty beer.

Even when he parked his bike on the bluff, and let his feet do the work, Michael could hardly believe he was there again. This time he wasn't coming back with questions for a pair of slender arms to comfort him behind a moth-eaten canopy, or even swinging in for a bite to eat and a round of mind-fuck pranks. Hell, he didn't even know _why_ he was there. Maybe it'd help him get his head straight again.

He needed to bury them. Bury the memories and the thoughts. Seeing the place eerily empty and dark until he somehow managed to get a fire going with his shitty lighter and more than half an hour of sheer willpower.

God, he was tired. For a wild moment, he wondered if it wouldn't be a bad idea to chill out on the couch for a nap...but the second his eyes landed on that dust-covered behemoth of a gathering place, he immediately dismissed it. Michael wasn't here to enjoy himself, to linger, to chat with ghosts. He was here to end it. Or something. Considering he hadn't even originally planned on coming here, he also hadn't thought that far ahead when he'd realized where he was.

He just barely managed to dodge a flock of pigeons taking flight past his right shoulder, and caught his feet just in time to avoid tumbling face-first into the wall. "Shit," he cursed, regaining his balance and jerking around. He almost expected to hear a chorus of vicious laughter, or a mocking repetition of his name like it was a catcall.

How was it that barely half a week knowing those assholes had somehow been long enough to imagine them so vividly, as if they were still with him? Coming here was a bad idea. It was only making things worse...still…

He pressed his back against the cave wall and sighed, throwing his head back while he forced himself to relax bit-by-bit, and indulge in the fact that they were gone. Forever. The worst they could do was haunt his mind, and that's where they'd always stay. Even _that_ was too much.

"I don't know if you're here, or if I'm just going crazy. Asshole ghosts or not, I'm not going to let you fuck with my life anymore." He glared in the direction of David's wheelchair and throne, imagining the bastard sitting there, casually smoking a cigarette while he grinned that shit-eating grin of his and indulged Michael in his speech, prepared to respond with another one in turn, "tomorrow night, I'm going to the bluff. So you can either meet me there and kill me yourselves, or just watch. I really don't give a fuck."

He wanted to laugh at how stupid he sounded right now, talking to no one. But he'd made his peace, and with nothing to respond to his threat but his own sardonic smile, he pushed away from the wall and headed towards the exit. As he turned he could swear that he saw the burning ember of a cigarette and a curl of smoke slipping into the darkness.

* * *

Lucy spun some of her spaghetti around her fork, looking at her eldest from across the table. She gave him a small smile before taking a bite, "Michael, what are your plans?"

He glanced up at her. Michael had been pushing a meatball around on his plate for the last five minutes, hadn't even taken a bite. "I...I was going to see about browsing some stores tomorrow...get a new mattress maybe…"

"Finally," she smiled, "it's about time you got a new one." She paused, "What about the future?" She asked softly, surely, he couldn't be planning on doing nothing.

Shrugging, he finally stopped messing with his food and set his fork down, "I don't know. I was thinking about leaving. Find a place I can get a decent job..."

"Leaving? You would have to come back and visit." She stated firmly.

He pushed his plate away, "if I don't, or if I didn't...I'd have a good reason. But don't worry about it, mom. I'll visit." He looked over at Sam, who'd somehow reverted back to middle school by constructing a crude little hill of spaghetti and surrounding it with his meatballs, "grow up, Sam."

Sam rolled his eyes, "Well, maybe you should eat too!" He took a violent bite.

"I ate earlier," he blatantly lied, as if Lucy wasn't his mother and couldn't read his face like an open book. He had an awful tell. He'd turn his face at an angle and stare at a fixed spot in front of him as if he was in a different world. At least she could take comfort in the fact that she still knew that much about her eldest, even though it seemed like he was slipping away from her a little more every day.

"Mom, if Mike's getting a mattress...can we get a tv, too?" Sam sat up, "you could charge it…" he added hopefully, flashing her his biggest open-mouthed smile.

She shook her head, "No, honey, we can't afford one quite yet, maybe Christmas."

Michael smirked at his little brother, "you _could_ get a job, Sammy...paper route or something, huh?"

He let out a snort, "I'm going to school, that's my job."

He rolled his eyes and stood up from the table, "I'll talk to you later, mom. I'm...gonna go to bed, I think." He certainly looked like he needed the sleep, and after talking with dad, she was a little worried about the hours he was keeping.

She stood, hugging him close, "I love you, Michael."

Holding her close, Michael settled his chin on her shoulder, "yeah. I love you too."


	2. Chapter 2

Kicking his feet over the edge of the cliff, Michael sat silently, squinting into the sea mist and biting back a wave of dizziness. Clutched in his palm was something he should have thrown away weeks ago, but hadn't been able to really think of how he'd do it. Seemed like a pretty big gesture, for some reason, even if it was the product of a drunken mistake. He lifted the earring up and let it catch in the weak moonlight filtering through the mist and fog.

What was he even doing here? This was stupid. Maybe grandpa had made a good point about finding a hobby. He didn't even want to think about what would happen if he followed through with his plan tonight to jump. It made him physically ill to think about his family right now.

He took a deep breath and hurled the earring into the air as if he were pitching a fastball, taking his first real step to move on. From here on out, he was pretty much hoping he'd go back to normal. Or a semblance of it, anyway. But even when he was sure the scrap of jewelry had met its new home at the bottom of the bluff, he didn't feel any different. Still the same. Still just as lost as he was before, and just as scared. It was a pointless gesture. A grand one, maybe...but still pointless.

Michael ran his hand through his hair, lowering his head. It was now or never, he supposed…

"You really going to take a header off a cliff?" David's voice echoed through the night, drawing his attention behind him. There stood the blonde in all his glory, examining something between his fingers, "It would be such a waste."

Michael stared back at him, willing his imagination to take a hike and leave him alone for once. This time, however, he didn't disappear. Climbing to his feet, he slowly turned to face him, edging as close to the edge of the bluff as he dared without falling. Bits of dirt crumbled beneath his heel, but he remained standing, "you're not real," he stated flatly.

He raised an eyebrow, chuckling softly, "I'm not, am I? He stepped forward and Michael saw what was between his fingers, moonlight glinted off the earring, "Could have fooled me. Not real. If I'm not real, what does that mean for you? Think you've lost your mind? Gone crazy? Or maybe it's wishful thinking. If you're hallucinating, doesn't that mean you _want_ me to be here?"

He scowled, willing himself to take one final step back and end this stupid conversation with what could only be a ghost at best and, as he said, a hallucination at worst. Only, Michael definitely did not fucking want him to be there, "maybe I already jumped," he replied, "maybe my skull's cracked on a rock down there, and this is just a final nightmare before I'm dead."

"Is that what you want to be real?" He asked, "Do you want someone to find your body, split open and bloody on the rocks? Tell me, Michael, what do you really want?"

He wanted this to be over. He wanted to stop thinking about them. He wanted to turn back the clock and tell himself to stay in Arizona with his jackass of a father, if that's what it took. He wanted to stop caring. "I want this to be over," he replied, glaring at David with all of the bravery he could muster. On the one hand, if...if he was somehow real, alive and standing right in front of him...Then Michael was just an easy meal talking to a predator with a pretty good reason to eat him. On the other, it was just a pointless exercise to prove to himself just how crazy he really was. What did it really matter? "I want to die."

"Do you want to die, or do you want to _live_?" He questioned, watching him intently.

Michael was getting pissed off, now, "I already told you, asshole. I want to die. So why don't you just fucking kill me if it's such a big deal, huh?"

He rolled his eyes, "Why? Why do you want to off yourself?"

He faltered, "I can't handle the guilt anymore…I don't trust myself..."

"What if the guilt was gone? No more pain, no more suffering, no more wondering what would happen if you let loose? Do you want me to kill you or do you want me to help you?"

If he could get out of this without dying, spare Sam and mom the pain, of course he'd leap at the chance. Now he was seriously beginning to doubt whether he really was arguing with thin air, and not the devil in the flesh, but it wasn't _possible_. Michael had killed David himself, had seen him die. So, he really didn't see the harm in admitting it, "I want help, but I don't think you can do that," he sighed, lifting one of his feet and spreading his arms as if he were about to take flight, falling back, letting gravity do the rest.

A very solid hand clamped around his forearm, pulling him back and up into a quite real body. David's face was inches from his own, golden eyes boring into him, "I'm going to help you, Michael. You want to taste death? I'll give it to you." Sharp fangs slid into his skin, they didn't rip or tear like he expected David to do, but hot blood bubbled up from the wound, spilling into the vampire's mouth as he began to drink. Michael struggled to shove him away, but he might as well be punching a brick wall for all the good it did him.

He tried to summon up a cry, a scream, and all he could do was gasp in pain. It fucking hurt. "St...stop…"

Slowly he pulled back, dragging his tongue over the wounds, "Stop? I thought you wanted to die." He whispered against his ear before ducking his head down to lick at the wounds again.

He'd taken a lot; Michael had to dig his fists into the vampire's coat just to keep standing, " _no,_ " he rasped weakly, his head falling to the side, "changed my mind…"

"Tell me what you want." His voice was soft, "Tell me."

Each breath rattling through his chest was laboured and fast, black spots clouding his vision even as he tried to find the words, "I wanna live…"

"You wanna live? Live with the guilt of what you want to do or do you want me to fix it, to take it all away?"

Michael closed his eyes, hating himself for even considering it, but...if he kept on like this, sooner or later he was going to go crazy (if he hadn't already) or try something even dumber, maybe even lose his temper on a bad morning and hit Sam too hard, possibly worse. He wanted to be strong, make the right choice and spit in David's face, or kill him all over again...that wasn't going to change things, either. "Take…" He licked his bottom lip and took another deep breath, "take it away…"

David smiled against his throat before pulling back. Slowly he slit his wrist holding it up to him in offering, "Take it." He said softly, holding it close to his lips. Michael sent up a silent prayer or plea for forgiveness, and then he opened his mouth, and he drank.

It wasn't like the first time, drug-addled and drinking from a tacky wine bottle. There wasn't even a hint of cheap wine lacing the blood that spilled past his lips. It was rich, heady, and he couldn't stop himself from wrapping his hands around his arm and holding it firmly in place. David made no signs of trying to pull away, to stop him from drinking as much as he wanted. It was ambrosia, the drink of the gods, and he couldn't get enough. The more he had, the more he wanted. It was cathartic. Every ounce of anger and tension he'd been carrying with him seemed to melt away, and all that was left behind was the blood. Then, there was nothing.

* * *

David stood over the unconscious brunette as he laid him on the ground. He'd have to get him back to the hotel soon but for now he just wanted to watch. All that fire, all that stubbornness, it was disappointing to see it go. The kid had fought so hard to be human but in the end being a halfling had taken it's toll. Not everyone could handle becoming human again, well, at least not the good ones. Ones like Star, well, they were too stupid to realize what they were missing. They didn't have a killer's instinct, not like Michael did. He looked so peaceful with blood smeared along his lips.

"Well boys, come say hi." He grinned into the darkness, had left the boys out of it until he was done with Michael, it wouldn't have done any good to show that _all_ of them were still alive after all. He didn't need _that_ much of a scare.

They appeared through the fog and mist, grinning madly and laughing amongst each other. "Bit melodramatic, wasn't it?" Dwayne remarked, standing over Michael and eyeing him curiously. He was still very much dead to the world, while the blood took its time working through his system. The second time around was going to be a lot rougher than the first. All of the little changes he'd been put through already were going to be packed into the span of a few hours...it was going to hurt.

"So are we done waiting around," Paul asked hopefully, nodding back into the darkness, "gonna do some payback?"

"Gotta wait until he feeds, then we can see about payback." David stated, watching as Michael curled in on himself, the pain making itself known.

"Bets on how attached he's gonna be to his brother!" Marko grinned.

Dwayne shook his head, "I don't want to go back to that house. Meet them all on our terms, makes for a cleaner kill," they'd barely even managed to come back, after all, if the comic shop kids didn't have such shitty aim with Marko, and David had gotten pinned on wood instead of bone.

Michael let out a sharp gasp, wrapping his arms around his knees as he began to shiver violently.

"I'll take that bet," Paul piped up. "Bet he tears him limb from limb...like a string cheese stick…right down the middle" he cackled.

"We can talk about it more at home." The bleach blonde knelt down and picked up their newest brother. Unknowingly, he burrowed his face closer to his maker, inhaling his scent. David let out a soft hum of pleasure before taking to the air, holding him close against his chest. Totally worth it.

* * *

"The whole stretch, Stacy. All blocked off...they don't know if it was sharks or what," two girls strode into the comic shop, the chattier one flinging the door open so hard, she nearly broke the bell off. "Daddy says they were all real good swimmers, too, but there was lots of liquor...totally wild party…" She wrinkled her nose, snatching up a comic and glancing at it, "you think Dustin would like this one? It's only a buck fifty..."

"Probably, so, sharks? How'd they find the bodies then? Did they just like wash up on shore or something?" She snapped her gum, looking over the other girl's shoulder.

Alan leaned against one of the racks, momentarily distracted from staring at the second one's backside in favor of their conversation. He frowned and jerked his head towards his brother at the counter.

"Well, like," the first girl popped her gum, reaching up with two neon pink nails to pick the destroyed bubble from her lips, "they were all torn up and stuff...it's real nasty...you ever seen Jaws? It's like that grody stuff they keep in the buckets...everywhere...won't even let the news crews get any good pictures." She leaned in closer, tucking her gum back in her mouth, "and they said...like...it happened a couple times before. That's why daddy doesn't like us going out at night," her eyebrows shot up, "spoooooky…"

Edgar cleared his throat, quickly scribbling their number on the back of a vampire comic he had nearby.

* * *

There was a buzzing in his ears. No, maybe it was crashing...water...waves. Michael groaned, struggling to sit up. He could feel damp sand beneath his jeans, and he was pretty sure he'd just been hit by a fucking freight train. Everything hurt. He cracked his eyes open, pressing the flats of his palms to his forehead and trying to will his massive headache to go away. What happened?

Had he jumped? Survived? Was that whole conversation with David just a concussion dream? Slowly, he pulled his hands away from his forehead, and flinched when he moved his head to the side. There was a deep ache in his neck, an itchy feeling...he touched a hand gingerly to the skin there and felt two very clean but prominent wounds...bite marks.

"...Shit," his voice sounded rough, cracking from the sheer effort of talking. From one moment to the next, he didn't know how he managed to summon the strength to climb to his feet, stumbling down the shoreline. Something was pulling him though, calling to him...a feeling in his gut told him he'd feel a lot better if he just followed whatever it was. A scent. A sound...why was it so bright out? The stars were blinding.

His leg muscles were screaming at him to stop, but he kept on going until he saw them...a group of guys chilling out on the beach, maybe six of them...laughing and smashing foaming beer cans together while the surf came up to wash the pads of their feet in the sand.

He could practically hear David's voice in his head, urging him forward, " _You'll feel better, just do it."_

He didn't have enough time to regret, or curse himself, or even think about what he was doing. The beast, so much stronger than it had been the first time, came roaring to life. There wasn't much room left for anything but his hunger now, and soon peals of laughter became horrified shrieks, and finally choked coughing when the first one Michael managed to get a hold of christened him with a spray of blood from the artery in his throat.

Shouts of joy rang out over the screams as Michael took his first step into the world of pack life. Michael painted himself in blood, it was just as he imagined it would be. It wasn't long before the others joined him, came close as he continued to feed. One of them, he wasn't sure which, licked the blood off his cheek, growling softly. He relaxed, though he held his victim a little bit closer, having no intention to share it just yet.

The guilt was gone. The anger. The fear. He got what he wanted, though maybe not in quite the same way. Fuck, this felt so good, he didn't even know why he'd fought it in the first place. When he finally released his spent victim, Michael felt like a weight was lifted from his shoulders. He was feather light and riding the high. Dizzy, he leaned towards the one who'd licked him, a deep purr of contentment emanating from his chest.

Strong fingers slid through his hair as that wicked tongue slid over his skin again, catching the escaped blood, "You're perfect like this." Another trail of blood was lapped up.

Michael pulled back, his eyes half-open from lethargy, "what?" He squinted at the speaker in question, David. He could barely stay awake right now...wanted to just curl up in the sand and relax. Something told him that wasn't a very good idea, though.

"Come on, let's get back," he paused, "I'll lick the rest of the blood off you."

He nodded sluggishly, climbing to his feet and brushing some of the pink sand from his jeans, "mmmh…" that was pretty much the extent of his vocabulary at the moment as he leaned against David for support. "Feel funny," he yawned.

He chuckled softly, "That's alright, come on." He wrapped an arm around his shoulders, guiding him toward home.

* * *

Lucy shoved open the door to her father's workshop, fixing an earring into her ear as she did so, "dad, did Michael come home last night? He's not in his room, and I really wanted to talk to him today."

He scowled, taking a swig of milk out of the carton, "Dunno, thought he was up there. Want I should go check?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, " _dad,"_ she pointed a finger at the carton in question, "now you know mom didn't like you doing that, why are you doing it to _my_ milk?" She sighed, "I already checked. He's not upstairs. I was hoping you'd seen him…" Lucy shook her head, "I'm going to head to work, but if Michael shows up, tell him to give me a call, okay? I think I may know someone selling a spare box spring."

He let out a grunt, taking another drink out of spite, "I'll let him know."

Lucy looked upwards and prayed her mom was looking down and planning to chastise him on judgment day, but for now, she'd just buy an extra carton of milk on the way home. Skim, if that would keep his hands and mouth off of it. "Thanks, dad. Do you want me to pick anything up on the way home? I noticed you were running low on cookies."

He nodded, "Cookies and root beer, I'm almost out of both." He stated, "The good kind, not the cheap stuff."

"Your doctor told you to cut back on that, so this is it for the week, okay?" She closed the door to the workshop and headed to the kitchen to grab her purse, squinting through the kitchen window on her way out. There wasn't a sign of Michael's bike outside, so that meant he must have gone out...she just hoped he hadn't spent all night doing something silly. God knew she should have just convinced him to go to school anyway, at least to keep him out of trouble. At least Sam wasn't as much trouble as Michael was becoming. It was upsetting, the phase her eldest seemed to be going through. They used to be so close before the divorce...and...well, the vampires. Unfortunately they didn't make books for coping with recovering from _that_ particular problem. She honestly didn't know what to do. Maybe she could look into a psychiatrist, Michael was smart enough not to talk about the vampires but maybe talking about loss and change would help him.

It was a school holiday, and Sam was probably still in his room. Maybe she'd talk to him too, see if she could get them both into counseling. The whole family needed help, though Michael was definitely in need of a lot more than she could give him on her own.

As she was driving away, she faintly heard the phone ringing. Hopefully dad would get it.

* * *

"Sam?" Edgar practically shouted over the phone, and no doubt his brother was standing right by him to listen in.

Sam rolled his eyes, "What?" He grumbled, "Do you know how early it is?"

"Sam. We might need back-up...there's some serious shit going down…" He growled ominously.

He scowled at the phone, "What do you mean? What kind of stuff?" He didn't dare swear with grandpa there.

"On the beach. There's been...a _murder_...blood and guts...all that crap...all over...we think it could be vampires, and we're gonna need your help. Maybe even your brother...for muscle. Can you make it down to the shop today? We're gonna start investigating as soon as possible. Before sunset..."

"We don't wanna be on the menu!" Alan chimed in, loudly.

"I'll be there…" He looked up the stairs, Michael wasn't there, where was he? "I'll try and get Mike too but he didn't come home last night I don't think."

There was an uneasy silence on the other end of the line, before Ed finally cleared his throat, "uh...your brother doesn't go swimming at night a lot, did...does he?"

"What? No, I don't think so, unless he's stupid, which he is, but pretty sure he wouldn't do that."

* * *

"No, you can't step past the line. You're not cops, you're not forensics, so no," the police officer directed them away from the massive streams of yellow tape. He looked like he'd been practicing that line all day, and there was a big enough crowd nearby to prove it.

"We got a right to see what's happening in our community!" Edgar shouted, nudging Sam, "right, Sam? Tell him."

Sam looked at him wide eyed, "It was just a shark attack, right? Why can't we go in there?"

He sighed, "that's not how crime scenes work, okay? Could be sharks, could be a bunch of maniacs, I don't know. We're not done, and anything you need to know will probably show up on the news sooner or later. I'm sorry, you're just gonna have to get your sick kicks from one of those trashy slasher flicks you kids are always watching."

"This is stupid, come on Ed, Alan, let's go do something else." He had every intention of finding another way in of course. It would just take a bit of creativity.

Later that afternoon, when Lucy got a call from the local police about her youngest son, unfortunately for Sam, she was far from happy.

"What on earth were you thinking?" She scolded him, "are you trying to act out for attention? Is that what this is? Honey, is this a call for help?" She was squeezing the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles had turned white. "What sane human being plays Red Rover by a police line?!"

He looked down at his lap, "It wasn't as bad as they made it sound…"

Lucy sighed, focusing on the road ahead of her, "I had to leave work early today because of this."

"Mom, I'm sorry, I just...What if…" He sighed, "It won't happen again."

She nodded, seemingly satisfied, "good. You haven't seen Michael today, have you? I need to talk to him."

He shook his head, "No, haven't seen him since last night."

"I don't…" Her eyes flicked over to him, "I don't think it would be a bad idea for us to go to some family counseling together. Michael seems to be having a lot of trouble lately, and I think you have a few things you probably need to get off your chest, too."

He looked up at her, "What if they're not dead?" He asked softly, now the Frog's paranoia was wearing off on him.

"... _What?"_ She pressed a hand to his forehead while the other remained steady on the wheel, "Sam, is that why you acted up today? Because you've been having bad dreams? You think they're coming back for you? Honey...they're dead. I don't know much about...well...those things...but I know when someone is dead. They can't come back to get you, I promise."

He shook his head, "It's just a feeling and then the bodies on the beach, it wasn't sharks mom."

She pulled her hand away, just as they arrived at a stoplight. "I'll start looking for a therapist tomorrow." By now Lucy was getting visibly distressed. In her eyes, this was bordering on an unhealthy obsession. "I'm sorry I ever met that awful man."


	3. Chapter 3

He couldn't move his feet. They were firmly locked in place, and for one brief moment he agitatedly wondered if Sam had done something stupid like wrap his bed with saran wrap while he was sleeping...but then he wouldn't be able to move anything. He also felt a little odd, like he was hanging upside…

Michael's eyes snapped open at once, when it all came flooding back to him. " _Shit!"_ He mentally yelped, almost losing his hold on the rusted pipe his toes were firmly locked around. He unclasped his arms from his chest and stared down at the ground helplessly...If he fell, it probably wouldn't be very pretty.

"Take it easy, Michael." David's voice rang out from beside him, "You're fine, don't freak out."

"You _sleep_ like this?!" He exclaimed, confident that at any second his feet were going to give out on him and send him plummeting gracelessly into a broken heap, his guts and entrails spread across the cave floor. They were _very_ high up.

Marko let out a snort, "So do you." He rolled his eyes, releasing his feet and floating down, "Did you forget you can fly?"

David shot the little one a glare, "Best sleep you've ever gotten though, isn't it?"

That threw him for a loop. Momentary shock aside, it actually was pretty comfortable. And from the vague recollection he had of settling up there for the day, he knew he hadn't even once woken up from restlessness or bad dreams. Hell, he hadn't had any dreams at all, "...yeah…"

"So, now that we have that settled, let's hop down for the day." David released his feet, flipping over to hover beneath him, "I'll be right here, let go and I'll catch you if I need to, deal?"

Paul left his perch next, intentionally flying close enough to Michael to nearly knock him off, and laughing when the younger vampire threw out a fist to try and catch him in the jaw, just barely dodging a fairly solid right hook. Michael glared at him, swinging himself up to grip his hands around the pipe and release his feet from their locked position, which wasn't too difficult given his supernatural strength and the fact that he'd regularly lifted weights since he was in Junior high.

He watched Dwayne take flight next, landing just beside Marko down below, before he finally let go and slowly descended to the ground to join them.

David smirked, "Wasn't so hard, was it?" He paused, "How're you feeling?"

He shrugged, hooking his thumbs into his belt loops. Honestly, he didn't feel much of anything. The mild shock of waking up dangling from a pipe aside, the most emotion Michael could summon up was a very mild sense of hunger pricking at the edges of his thoughts, and maybe just a little bored. Everything else...that well of depression he'd been drawing from lately, the temper he'd barely been holding in check...he didn't feel any of it. "I feel fine...I guess…"

Michael glanced upwards. It really had been a very long descent…"how did they manage to get to Marko all the way up there?" He honestly couldn't believe his little brother, or his idiot friends were capable of it. Their combined upper body strength alone was laughable.

"We were in a different spot when those idiots showed up." David stated, "Didn't expect you to show them our place."

"They were trying to save me," Michael replied defensively, though he couldn't help the mild sense of guilt nagging at the back of his mind. Now that he'd finally made a kill, shedding his humanity, it had been replaced with an odd sense of instinctive loyalty to David and the boys. He really couldn't even begin to comprehend killing any of them now to protect his own skin. "...how are you even alive now?" He drew back, eyeing David up and down, "I killed you…" it sounded like an accusation and an apology at the same time. So maybe it was a little bit of both.

The bleach blonde took that moment to light up a cigarette, "Magic." He smirked.

Paul and Marko exchanged looks, snickering together. Michael glanced between them and Dwayne, who looked just as amused, though he remained silent. "You guys are dicks," he snapped, untucking his thumbs from his belt loops and looking around for an exit.

David chuckled but it was Marko who spoke, "Aww, don't be like that man!"

The bleach blonde walked past the brunette, making his way to the exit, "Let's go, time to show Michael the night life."

He frowned, "we're not getting Chinese food, are we?"

"I do love rice," Dwayne snarked.

"You're one of us now, no more tests." He paused, "Doesn't mean we can't have some fun though." David stepped out into the lobby, "Maybe we should let you pick what we do tonight." He grinned, "Nah, Dwayne, your turn."

Hands tucked into his pockets, Dwayne skipped up to the edge of the fountain and balanced his feet on the edge, slowly circling it with a thoughtful look on his face. "Haven't hassled any locals lately," he mused, tossing his hair back over his shoulder, "they got a new tunnel ride on the boardwalk...be pretty fun to start up a few new stories," he smirked.

Marko made kissy faces at him, "Gonna go in there with Paulie and scar some kids for life?"

Their leader ignored him, "Alright, tunnel ride it is." He paused, "And if anyone's going in there with Paul, it's you, Marko."

Paul snorted, "nah, man, I wanna grab some tits tonight…" he made lewd gestures with his hands, grinning. "Don't need a shrimpy little fuck cramping my style, thanks."

Michael had a hard time believing any chick would willingly go into a dark tunnel with Paul unless she was seriously mental. Or hammered. Maybe both. Hell, they were all pretty off-putting. He didn't doubt he was now, too. It didn't take long for all of them to get settled onto their bikes and headed toward town. Michael was sure that Dwayne had to have something specific in mind for scaring people in the tunnel ride and in all honesty he was excited to see what he had in store.

" _We keep clear of that comic book shop, I don't want them knowing we're still around."_ David's voice rang through his head. If he weren't focusing on the path ahead of them, he would have given the blonde a very confused look. How was that even possible? He vaguely recalled the night he'd almost attacked his little brother, when the boys had surrounded the house with their bikes, and then disappeared in a near instant...he'd heard David's voice calling out to him in his head then, too…

"... _The fuck, man?"_ He hesitantly thought, unsure whether or not David would hear it.

" _Bravo, Michael!"_ He chuckled out loud, " _First time and already has it figured out."_

" _All you need now is potty training, and you'll be on your wa-"_ Marko began, and Michael made a mental note to kick the shit out of him later if he got the chance. Apparently he got the memo, because he didn't finish his sentence.

Paul let out an excited cackle, which quickly morphed into a howl echoing into the night sky. The sound alone was enough to draw equally energetic responses from the rest, and Michael had to admit it felt amazing joining in. Like the act alone was enough to send an extra jolt of adrenaline rushing through his veins, sending them all quicker across the beach dunes. He wasn't sure if he'd ever felt this amazing, and more than ever he actually felt like this was where he belonged.

They didn't stop at the boardwalk, in fact, they didn't park their bikes any where near it. David didn't want to draw too much attention to them until they were ready. Plus, those annoying little pricks could be just about anywhere...you just needed to follow where the corn chip stench was the strongest. It was Dwayne who led them to the new ride, a tribute to every single schlocky drive-through feature rolled into one premature Halloween ejaculation. It was tacky. It was, in essence, more terrifying than any of the Lost Boys could hope to be, because it reminded the world just how awful drug-induced designs can go so terribly wrong.

"...This is new," Michael remarked, squinting at the growing line trailing halfway to the ferris wheel. "You actually want to go in there?" He quirked an eyebrow at Dwayne, seriously beginning to question his sanity.

Dwayne grinned, "Oh, yeah, yes, yes we do. We are going in there and we are going to scare the shit out of them."

Paul glanced over at a small group of children climbing into one cart, their mother taking a seat behind them, "oh...happy meals…"

Marko grinned widely, "Oh, they're the best, I want them."

David glanced around, taking in the ride, "Alright, there's a backway in."

It only took a few well-timed smiles from the boys, and a bit of eyebrow wiggling from Marko for people to pretty much turn the other way while they slipped through the crowd towards an orange painted door disguised as a tooth in a very large jack-o-lantern mural. Dwayne smirked, coming up into an area where fake coffins and even faker vampires were set up.

" _Perfect."_ He grinned wildly at the others as he looked around the corner, " _And here come the kiddies."_

Sticky fingers plastered in bits of melting cotton candy, gleeful giggles and incessant chatter hailed their arrival as the carts slowly rolled around on their track towards where the boys were getting ready.

Marko hastily climbed under a pile of discarded rubber body parts, snickering to himself, giving Paul a swift kick to find his own hiding spot. He hissed down at him, and very nearly snatched up a leg to smack him with, when the others gave him a quick warning look.

Michael knelt beside a fake vampire which was half-slung back into his fake coffin, as if they'd barely even finished setting up for the ride, " _people pay to come here? Really? This is just stupid."_

David took his spot, front and center, taking a moment to cut his throat lightly so blood spilled down, " _Yeah, but it means more fun for us."_ He grinned.

The cart came around the corner, slowing down to a stop in front of them. Immediately they went into action, David slid forward, sliding bloody fingers down the side of the cart. Widened little eyes, and even a pair of sticky fingers tried to push him away, their shrieks of delight immediately turning to something far more reminiscent of real fear.

Marko was next, dragging himself out from beneath the pile of fake body parts, face gaunt and grimacing while his very real fangs dribbled saliva over his chin, and he snatched a distracted Paul's ankle to sink his teeth deep into the flesh. Paul shrieked, trying to kick him off, and the screams from the cart grew even louder as his face, too, took on its vampiric shape and he rounded on them with a tremendous hiss. Dwayne slid into the cart behind them, roaring in their ears before hopping backwards as the cart began to move again.

Left to finish off their performance, Michael knew he probably wouldn't live it down if he didn't pull it off with a grande finale, so what could he do? With a flourish, he leapt onto the tracks and slammed his hands on the front of the lead cart, digging his fangs into his tongue until his mouth filled with his own blood, to let it drip down his chin while he climbed forward onto the hood of the laboring cart, grinning at the oldest-looking kid in the group. Maybe twelve, or maybe ten…

Lifting one clawed hand, he reached forward to brush a strand of hair from the little girl's face, drawing closer until they were inches away from each other, and his blood dripped into her cotton candy…

"...Boo."

Their screams were loud enough to shake the dirt from the rafters, and high enough to break glass, long after the boys were left behind, and Michael had wiped the blood from his chin. As he watched them disappear from the tunnel, very likely prepared to carry this memory bottled up in their little hearts until it came out through crippling alcoholism in their high school years, he wondered whether he should try to feel empathy...or something...he probably would have. The old Michael, anyway. And even though it had only been about a day, he wasn't really sure he even understood what it felt like anymore. The way he used to think was almost alien to him now.

They hid amongst a few other decorations and scenes in the tunnel, never lingering in one part longer than a few minutes, and only leaping out to really give the kids in particular a good scare. The point was for nobody to believe they were actually there. It was the most fun Michael had in...well...ever. He didn't once notice the oddly intent look on David's face as the blonde watched him.

* * *

David settled back into his chair, well, he saw it as a throne. A lot had happened over the past month. They had gone from dead to alive within a few days, honestly he never wanted to go through that again. He wondered where the original plan had gone wrong, idly flicking the edge of his cigarette. Had it been the first hunt, perhaps? Admittedly, it was the threatening way Michael had demanded to know about Star that prompted him to do it. The brunette had seemed so very ready then, angry...unknowingly anxious to feed. So what had stopped him? Was it that lingering humanity, the thought of his human family, or did he think he was a good boy?

Good boys didn't drink themselves into stupors with vampire bikers. No, there was something inside Michael, no matter how much he might try to deny it. An intangible darkness, an instinct to kill...the same thing he'd seen in all the others. The same thing Max had thought to tame, and only ended up getting burned for his stupid fucking efforts.

Michael yawned, his fangs catching in the wavering light from the oil barrels nearby. None of them bothered to wear their human masks when they weren't playing a role for someone and Michael had taken to it naturally as well. Their newest member was perfect. He was a predator and now that he could no longer deny it, things were looking up. Now they just had to get him past the initial 'where'd my humanity go' phase. It wasn't so much a matter of actually missing your humanity, it was merely the fact that it was gone. Best to take their time. David hadn't gotten that luxury as a fledgling, he had been thrust right into the thick of things and Max wasn't going to win sire of the year. No love was lost on the asshole. His ashes deserved their spot in the Emerson garden, and none of them were inclined to bring him back even if they could.

It was a stroke of luck, magic, that made it possible for David and Marko to survive. Recovery was the hardest part but they'd all made it back to full health, more or less, in the span of a week. All that was left after that was waiting for Michael to come around. The brunette was filled with so much self loathing it was hard not to notice. It was easy for David to give him a little push. He hadn't done anything to suggest he commit suicide, he hadn't even manipulated his thoughts, all he'd done was help them grow and fester. If he'd done the same to Star, he didn't doubt she'd have cracked in the first week. She didn't matter anymore though, he had his prize, that's what Michael was, a prize, his reward for sticking it out.

* * *

_One month ago…_

"C'mon, Sam, let's go to bed. Grandpa says we can clean up in the morning," Michael's muffled voice, distant. Barely audible.

"We're willing to negotiate a six month period payment plan, starting in…" one of those comic book geeks began to ramble, his voice fading completely as they all no doubt left.

David could feel the horns through his chest, could feel each painful prong, but he also knew they were still around. He could hear them moving. He knew he'd been moved, moreover he knew where, outside. As if having a set of antlers through the chest wasn't bad enough, sunlight was far worse.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, looking around. Where were the others? A soft hiss escaped his lips as he tried to pull himself off. A wave of nausea overtook him as his lifeblood spilled out onto the ground, christening and baptizing any manner of insect that might be burrowed under the earth around him. A groan of pain escaped his lips as he finally managed to pull himself free. It fucking hurt, he couldn't ever remember feeling anything as bad as this. Not hunger or starvation, not being whipped bloody for back talking daddy, no, horns through the chest was at the top of his list for pain.

As much as he'd like to indulge in colorful thoughts of revenge, he didn't have the time to linger on them. More than just the agony, too, he felt something else...a surge of power suffusing his muscles, numbing the greater parts of the pain enough to give him the strength to finish the task at hand. It seemed like Max's death had some perks aside from just being rid of him. It took most of the night to get Paul and Dwayne's remains back to the hotel. He wasn't going to just leave them in the Emerson's back yard. Out of them all, Marko was the luckiest. He'd at least managed not to die, despite the massive gaping wound left in his chest just below where his heart nestled. An inch further up and he wouldn't have made it.

David laid himself out on the ground. He'd have to feed and soon, but right now he just wanted to close his eyes and rest. It was Marko who brought him food, the little bastard had managed to heal up enough that he was able to go out. It wasn't the best meal, some junkie...but the buzz was welcome right now, despite the shitty taste.

"I think we should kill them all," Marko grumbled, digging his thumb claw into a rat's neck and spilling the contents over Dwayne's aligned body parts. He wasn't strong enough right now to bring back multiple people to revive their packmates, so this would have to do for the time being. So far, it looked like his torso was at least re-attaching itself to his legs.

"Hmm." David let out a thoughtful grunt, "Not sure about that…" He was thinking of Michael, of course he was, the brunette was the only worthwhile one out of the bunch of would be killers, "Most of them though."

He had enough sense not to argue with his pack leader. At any rate, their initiations were sacred to them, and not something to be taken lightly. Michael had made it through and David wasn't inclined to let him off easy. No, death was too good, and he really wanted to unleash that darkness within him.

"What're you thinking about, Marko? Honestly." He leaned back against the fountain, looking up at the ceiling.

The shorter vampire stood up, tossing the rat carcass onto a small, but ever-growing pile of vermin. There was no shortage of them in the hotel. "I'm thinking it's gonna be a hell of a ride once others start figuring out Max is gone. You think we're ready to start keeping an eye out for them? I'm pretty fucking sure they're gonna be sniffing around sooner or later…"

"Gotta recover first and then we can worry about interlopers." He laid a hand on one of the closing wounds in his chest, "Fuck, it hurts."

* * *

_Present day...1987…_

"Sam? You alright, buddy?"

He jerked up from his textbook, blinking up at the rest of the study group, "uh...yeah, yeah...did I do something?"

Jake, the only other guy in the group, leaned forward across the library table to tap Sam's book, "your turn to read, guy. Or we're gonna be here all night. Can't get pizza if we don't finish the chapter…"

He'd been thinking about Mike. He hadn't shown up at the house last night. Or even today before he hitched a ride with his classmates to the library to cram for their upcoming English test. He really hoped his brother hadn't done something stupid. That's what kind of got the whole family in a mess the last time, honestly. Maybe he'd found another girlfriend or something…

"I want pizza. Hurry it up, Emerson," Alex popped her gum and rolled her eyes, glancing down at their plastic orange nails and picking at the sides close to her cuticles.

As he read the passage from Gatsby aloud, he barely even focused on the words. Why couldn't things just go back to normal? At least he was doing normal things, study group, new people, he could make a new start of this, a good start. No more vampires. No more hunters. Life could just go on.

Okay, so maybe there _were_ a couple of hunters, and maybe he'd thought about possibly joining them in cleaning out the city, but so far all he'd done was gotten himself in trouble with nothing to show for it but a police record and a very angry mom.

"Sam! SAM! Are you in here?!" Speak of the devil, Alan was tearing around the corner of one of the bookshelves with sweat dripping down his shirt like he'd just run a marathon, and wild bug-eyes. Ed was nowhere in sight, but he was definitely screaming loud enough on the other side of the library for everyone to hear him.

Sam cringed, hiding behind his book, this was exactly what he didn't need. Maybe if he ignored him he'd go away. He could feel several pairs of eyes boring into him in shock.

"Listen, Sam...kids on the boardwalk…" Alan panted, gripping his sides and glancing over at Alex, "oh...hey Alex…" he attempted to draw himself up into a full standing position, but he was too exhausted, and instead ended up kneeling to the ground to grip at his chest, "it's...seeing stuff...at the new ride...vampi-"

Ed ran by behind him, yelling bloody murder as the librarian chased him through the building.

"No, no, I'm done, none of this crap anymore." He bit out, his voice a low hiss, "I can't deal with it."

Alan stood back up, "Sam...ya gotta listen…" he gasped, pressing his hand into his side and cringing, "you're one of us, remember? We practically made an _oath!_ We don't know how many we could be dealing with!"

The rest of the study group whispered to each other, giving Sam very odd looks.

Sam glared at them, "Just, leave me alone."

The Frog brother scowled at him just as the librarian returned, dragging a struggling Edgar by the collar, and wrapping a bony hand around one of Alan's arms. "...thought you were different, man…" he called behind him. "Just like the rest of them…"

He shook his head, right now he could deal with it, this was for the best, he could move forward, go on with his life. So maybe vampires did exist...and maybe, hell, maybe there might even be more out there, if grandpa was right when he said something to that effect...but he really didn't want to have to talk to a shrink for the rest of his life. Or piss off the local police again...which might happen, if he kept hanging out with the Frog brothers. He wanted things to just be normal again, like in Phoenix, okay, maybe not _just_ like in Phoenix but close enough.

"Friends of yours?" Jake asked, an amused smirk on his lips, as he glanced towards the librarian marching with the Frog brothers towards the exit door.

"He sits with them at lunch a lot," Alex remarked, popping her gum again and lifting up her book, "god, this is soooooo boring. Do we seriously have to read the whole thing?"

"Not anymore they're not." He grumbled, "Let's call it the stupidity of youth and leave it at that."

Man...he knew he was doing the right thing...but why did he feel like such a jerk?

* * *

Michael took a hit and passed to Dwayne, holding the smoke in his mouth and trying to think past the pleasant cottony cloud jumbling his head up. After that little thrill at the boardwalk with the kiddies, and a small bite to eat, it only seemed to make sense to just head back to the hotel and relax. He supposed every night would be like this from now on, maybe a few little changes here and there...different things to keep them occupied in-between meals…

He was trying to get himself to think about his family. Honestly, it was odd even thinking about them like that anymore. Family...that word didn't even seem to apply to him anymore. He finally let the smoke out, throwing his head back and relaxing a little bit further. He didn't _regret_ his choice...yet...but it seemed...kinda weird, knowing there was a world of... _things_ he couldn't feel anymore.

Shit, what if this was just shock or something, and a week from now it'd all come crashing back ten times as bad? This time it'd be a hell of a lot harder to run away from his problems, that was for fucking sure. He squinted up at the ceiling. Maybe he was just overthinking it. That was something he didn't usually get accused of.

"What's going on in that head of yours, Michael?" David's voice filtered through the drugs as he took the joint for his own hit.

He shifted on the couch, slowly letting his head loll to the side so he could look up at the bleach blonde standing over him, "what's…" he blinked, not sure how to phrase it without letting on he'd taken one hit too many, "how much did I lose? What's still me, and what's not?"

David let out a snort, "All of you is still you. Humans are just stupid and food. What you lost is weakness. _Human_ weakness."

"That simple, huh?" He took a deep breath and let it out as he relaxed his cheek against his shoulder. It made sense, but a part of him wanted some bigger answer. A cosmic twist, a grand definition of what he used to be and what he was now. It made sense, though, he supposed...love, guilt, sympathy...anything but hunger or distaste...for people...for food...even in his head it sounded pretty ridiculous.

"We know what we want and we go after it. Thoughts about right or wrong, they're useless, what purpose do they serve? Isn't it better, easier, to just take it? Who cares about anyone besides themselves anyway, at least we look after each other."

"Humans can eat salads instead of burgers and do just fine...kinda doesn't work for us, y'know?" Paul piped up. "Can't survive with a bleeding heart, Mikey. Being stupid like that would just get you killed, anyway...Marko, fucking pass already…" He punched the smaller vampire in the shoulder, shoving him from the fountain and snatching the joint out of his hand.

Marko growled at him, "Gonna bite you next time, dick." He bared his teeth before turning to Michael, "Do you feel funny? Off? What has you so worried, don't you feel good?"

"Feel awesome," Michael closed his eyes, a subtle smile curving his lips, "just figure the high's gotta end sometime, doesn't it?" And fuck, as good as he felt right now...if it did...it'd be a shitstorm of a crash, too.

Dwayne grinned at him, "Good thing it never has to end."

"I been fucking wasted since '52," Paul snickered.

Marko rolled his eyes, "that's not what he meant, dipshit."

"You will never see Paul sober." David nodded sagely, "Anyway, what I'm trying to get at is don't worry about it. You have your pack, that's all you need."

"Yeah?" Michael cracked open an eye, "what if I went back to visit? Tested it out?"

Their leader tipped his head back, looking at the ceiling before holding out his hand for the joint, "Play human?" He questioned, taking the joint from Paul, "Or just go back for a little chat and hope they don't decide to stake you before you eat them."

He couldn't really imagine Sam or mom trying to pull a stake on him...but grandpa...the old man was another story. He already had the Texas Chainsaw Massacre vibe going for him sometimes, and the way he'd taken out Max and practically half the house with his jeep…"nah, don't think I'd tell them," he drew his head back up, "might be fun to play around for a bit...see what happens," he shrugged. At least he'd know for sure whether they really were right.

"As long as you don't do anything stupid to get yourself offed, I'm not against it." He took another drag before passing the joint to Michael. Was it just him, or did David's hand linger over his a little longer than...nah.

"Mh," Michael nodded, taking another hit and closing his eyes.

"When do you want to do it?"

"Can't do it tonight," Michael replied, passing to Dwayne, "never would've gone back to mom high as a fucking kite...she'd smell it...maybe tomorrow?" It'd probably be a good idea to change his shirt, too, come to think of it...this one had a lot of stains on it...

They all nodded, "Alright, tomorrow night you get to go back and mess with them." David grinned, "Sounds like a plan to me."

It didn't even strike Michael for a moment that he'd practically asked for permission, left it up to the blonde to decide whether or not he'd go back. It just felt natural. He'd probably question it a bit more if he was sober. Right now, between the cottony feeling in his head, and all the other thoughts...there really wasn't much room left.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam's stupid dog was barking at his bedroom window. Grandpa's jeep was long gone. The boys were, for all intents and purposes, doing their own thing somewhere in the 'neighborhood', or whatever the hell you called a string of houses on the outskirts of a city with only a vague simile of a paved road to connect them.

Michael tucked his hands into his pockets and used a foot to kick gently at the door, because he couldn't be bothered to knock like a normal person.

"Mom?" He called out, stepping back and leaning against the screen door. No answer. He sighed and yanked his hands out of his pockets, banging on the door with one of his fists this time while he placed the other arm against the screen and let his forehead rest just below it, as if he were looking in through a shaded mesh prison, "mom, you there? Lost my key."

"MICHAEL EMERSON!" The door flew open in his face, "Where have you been and why on earth would you think it's a good idea to disappear like that?!"

He bit back the sudden urge to go on the defensive, her tone drumming up an odd sense of irritation in the back of his mind. Face-to-face, he could hardly believe she really didn't mean anything to him anymore. Just a person. Just another meal. "Star found a place," he lied, and it came as natural as breathing. He didn't even look away when he said it, "so I was helping her settle in...figured you'd be too busy at work to notice me gone for a couple days."

"Why didn't you say anything?" He shoulders slumped, "You just disappeared. Don't you ever do that to me again."

Michael shrugged, "gotta go back later tonight, mom. Won't be sticking around too long…"

"Oh, no you're not, you're staying right here buster, you're grounded…" Could she really ground him? He was a grown man after all. Plus, not like he couldn't just eat her...though the urge wasn't really there. He'd already fed tonight...and once he'd gotten wind from Dwayne that the boys had placed a bet on when he'd kill them, it was like a personal challenge not to.

"If you want me to come in, mom, just tell me. But I'm moving out. Sorry it's coming out like this, but that's how it is. I'm an adult," _and I eat people._ He made direct eye contact with her and held her gaze, not quite aware just how intense the effect was.

She swallowed hard, "A-Alright, but please, don't disappear again."

This would be the big one. Because he didn't want to put up with any stupid shit if Sam somehow figured things out, "so...do you want me to come in?"

She nodded, "Yes, let's sit down and have some dinner." She said softly.

"Great," he grinned, stepping past her, "already miss your cooking, mom. Been eating some awful stuff lately…"

* * *

There was something wrong but she was just so happy that he was back and safe that she had no choice but to overlook the harsh tone. She glanced at him as she set out the small dinner she had made, soup and bread, it was only for her after all. Sam was out with friends studying, not those Frog boys either, which was a relief, and dad was at the Widow Johnson's.

"It's not much, I wasn't expecting anyone home tonight." She sat down, there was enough for both of them thankfully.

"Don't worry about it," he replied, picking up a spoon and stirring his soup, hardly even bringing it to his lips before he was leaning back in his chair and watching her again. It was...oddly unsettling. "Work been alright?"

"Yes, I just got a raise." She gave him a small smile, she took a spoonful of soup.

"Bet you can buy all kinds of things with that," he remarked dryly, sipping his soup and lowering the spoon. Oddly enough, it didn't look like he'd eaten any of it at all…"getting cozy with anyone yet, mom? Any dates?"

She shook her head, "No, after Max...well…" She shifted uncomfortably.

"Yeah…" He nodded, "dad, Max...third time's a charm, though, huh?" He almost sounded amused at the idea. Something was very wrong with Michael.

She slammed her spoon down, "What's gotten into you?!" She looked at him with wide eyes, "This isn't like you at all."

"It's not?" He drew up in his seat, setting his spoon down slowly and...staring at her. So many thoughts behind his eyes she couldn't even begin to read. This was the same boy who wore his emotions on his face no matter what...and she wasn't even sure she knew him anymore, the way he was acting. "I'm sorry, mom. I've just had a lot of stuff happen," he finally spoke up, his voice flat...and she really wanted it to be sincere, but there was something very off. Maybe he was still depressed, still upset, and this was just his new way of coping. "I don't wanna hurt you."

Hurt her? She didn't think he was going to be violent, "I think we need to all go see a therapist." She said softly, "What happened...it wasn't good for any of us."

"I'll think about it," he shrugged. "Don't think I need it, though...I feel great. Better than great, actually."

"Then…" She couldn't figure it out, what changed?

At that exact moment, the door was flung open by a very irate old man with a stuffed poodle under his arm, "space...plenty of space around…don't see how you'd get more of it..." he grumbled to himself, marching into the kitchen with the poodle clutched tightly.

"Dad? What's wrong?" She was certainly quick to change the subject.

"Nothing wrong, just got a damn poodle I ain't finished with," he snapped as he yanked open the fridge and glanced over at them, "so it's still alive, huh? Thought you was dead at the bottom of a cliff somewhere, the way you been keeping away like that."

An odd look flickered across Michael's face before he relaxed in his chair, "no. Just moved out, grandpa...right mom?"

"He said he moved out with Star." She paused, how had he afforded it? "I was just glad to see him come home."

"Well, then," the old man straightened up, "guess you can come by tomorrow and help me finish re-doing the tile in the bathroom then, huh?"

Michael stood up, saluting his grandpa, "hate to say it gramps, but I got a day job. No can do," he glanced over at Lucy, "I'm gonna have to head out, mom...it's getting pretty late."

She stood quickly, moving over to him. Hesitantly she pulled him into a hug, "Just remember that I love you, no matter what." She said softly.

"No matter what?" He repeated, slowly wrapping his arms around her torso. "Promise?" What an odd thing to ask...

"Of course." She pulled back, "Michael, you can talk to me if there's anything wrong. You know that, right?"

"Don't worry about it. I'm better now." He smiled at her, dodging out of the house just as suddenly as he'd arrived. His soup bowl still full, and his bread untouched.

* * *

David grinned, licking blood from his fingers as he strolled down the driveway of one of the houses way on the outskirts of town. They just had a grand time, the people were so welcoming of them, giving them plenty of food for the night, poor starving kids that they were. It was rare for them to actually visit people in their homes but when you're trying to lay low, well, best move is to get to people that won't be missed as much. Old folks with kids too busy to visit? They weren't too busy to come see them! Think of it as community service. They were helping the elderly.

Euthanasia with benefits. Well, _they_ benefitted, anyway.

It wasn't long before they were back at their bikes, Michael already waiting for them. He didn't look in the least distressed or even phased about his little visit.

"Have fun?" Michael asked them, eyeing the blood still dripping down David's fingers.

He held his hand out to him, "Want to try?" He grinned, "Of course we had fun, what about you?" He hoped Michael would take him up on the blood offer, it was just too good to pass up. He wasn't disappointed. The younger vampire leaned forward slightly, tongue darting out to catch a drop pooled in the middle of his palm, before he quickly pulled back with an odd look on his face.

"Think the dog doesn't like me," he replied, "didn't stop barking until I left the house...got pretty bored, honestly. Almost thought I _would_ feel something when I saw mom...not a thing."

He nodded in understanding, "Yeah, I ate my family, they got too annoying."

Marko and Paul exchanged looks, "you...your shirt's pretty clean…" Marko said slowly.

"I didn't eat her," Michael replied, shaking his head. "Still don't plan to…" He looked back at David, "they were really that bad, huh?"

"It grates on you after awhile, ohhh, David, you've changed, what can we do to help you, just on and on and on."

Michael laughed, "and here I thought I was probably acting like a dick tonight…"

"Well, to them you probably were but hey, who cares?" He chuckled softly, licking more blood off his fingers slowly, "They'll never understand how you feel now."

"If we didn't eat people, I'd say this was starting to feel like an after school special," Dwayne drawled, climbing onto his bike.

Michael glanced up at the sky, "maybe next week I'll swing by and mess with Sammy a bit…"

"Kids are the most fun to mess with." Marko grinned, "By far."

"Don't think it could top the 'tunnel' ride, though," Paul nudged him. "Maybe you should get some practice in while you're at it, huh? Learn some new tricks? Whatcha think, Davey?"

He scowled slightly, "I can think of better ways to practice."

Michael cocked his head, looking doubtful, "Tricks? Like that shit you did with the Chinese food? Is there other stuff, too...or does it just stop with food?"

"Oh, I can make anyone believe almost anything." He smirked darkly, "Spiders are always a fun one."

"Hm," Michael nodded, "...you guys have any other plans tonight while we're out?" He looked around at the others as they climbed onto their bikes. The night was still young, after all. It'd be a waste to head home early.

"Could head to the next town over and have some fun or we could discreetly harass the Frito brothers."

Marko broke into a toothy grin, "sounds good to me...bet we could get them screaming like little bitches real fast." He paused, tongue darting out to click against one of his fangs, "I'd rather eat em, though…"

"Later, let's play with them first, make them afraid of us because you know they're not now." Dwayne stated. It would make for a way more entertaining couple of weeks...and maybe they'd be a nice example for any other idiots who somehow managed to fall in with them like Michael's little brother.

* * *

Edgar grunted in disgust, kicking his bicycle over in the front lawn. Their only friend-uh...partner in cleaning up Santa Carla...had just ditched them. More than that, he'd acted just like everyone else; he'd looked at them both like they were crazy, like the city wasn't swarming with bloodsuckers ready to kill and eat every last man, woman, and child before they moved on to take over the rest of America. Once a civilian, always a civilian. Sam was just like everybody else.

They would have to be ready, even if Sam wasn't. They would have to protect the city themselves. It would be easy, they could do it, they'd done it before and there was four of the bastards. One or two would be a cakewalk! Now that they'd put years of planning to action, finally made the first step in what would be a long line of successful...exterminations...yes, he liked that word. Exterminations. It made their life's mission seem like something they could easily do, and with a bit more practice...who knew? Maybe next time they'd be able to take six at a time. Ten. A whole army of vampires.

Yeah, just him and Alan...the Frog brothers. The monster bashers.

"Alan," Edgar rasped, glaring out across the lawn towards their run-down shithole of a home. "We're gonna have to stock up. It's just you and me now…"

Alan frowned slightly, "What if they got to him? What if there's something messing with his head?"

"What?" Edgar looked back at his brother, jerking to attention. "What do you mean?!"

"Sam, what if he's like being mind controlled or something. He wouldn't really abandon the fight, would he?"

That...that made sense. That made a lot of sense. It made so much goddamn sense, there was no possible way he could be wrong. After what they'd done for Sam? Saving his family, his brother...even his life and his dog? "Yeah," Edgar whispered, and then with more confidence, shouted, "yeah, Alan! You're right! There's gotta be some kinda...mind-control, like you said...you think there's more of them out there, and they found out about us? Went after the weak one, the easy target, just to tear us apart?!" He was growing more and more confident with the passing second. What else could it be, after all?

Alan started to nod, reaching for his brother and gripping at his shoulder, "yeah, yeah...we gotta do something about it, too...before they start using him like some kinda vampire butt monkey…"

"So it's settled. We follow him. Keep an eye on him. Figure out what's going on, and snap him back to reality," Edgar grunted, scratching at his chin.

Alan nodded in agreement, "We'd better go get our stuff, it'll be easier to keep tabs on him that way."

Edgar held up his hand for a high five, "the monster bashers are back!"


	5. Chapter 5

David put a few finishing touches on their masterpiece. In all reality, Paul and Marko had done most of the work. Their creativity when it came to art had no bounds. He stepped back, admiring the red paint splattered across the counter and wall, splashed in an arterial spray of bright crimson.

"I think it adds a certain...character to the place." He stated, looking around to see what the others boys had done, "Just gives it that extra, pazaz."

David knew that the others were a little disappointed that they couldn't use real blood. Leaving a body lying around would have been great fun but it would have caused problems. The biggest one being that they would reveal their hand too soon. And this was way better, anyway. Let the twerps think whatever they wanted, this was going to be a long running 'prank', and they needed to be able to enjoy it.

Paul finished zipping up his pants, admiring his handiwork, "you think anyone's gonna buy this shit?" he turned back to the others, grinning. A whole rack of Aquaman comics were thoroughly and irreparably damaged. It was only fitting.

"Nope, they're gonna lose a little money on this batch." Marko smirked, "We want to do anything else to it?"

Dwayne laughed, leaping onto the counter and nudging a half-empty box of trade-ins with a booted foot, "not much else we can do…"

Michael knelt behind the counter, tapping at a metal lockbox, "what do you think they've got in this?"

"Let's open it and find out." David said, moving over to it and pulling out a bobby pin. It didn't take him long to pick the flimsy lock and what they found inside was just perfect for the next step. A stack of pristine early issue prints of the kinds of bullshit these nerds forked out their life savings for. The kind of stuff Sam would practically ruin his underwear over.

Michael smirked, "looks expensive…"

David flipped through one, "Want 'em?"

"Yeah, sure," Michael shrugged, "I'll pass them off to Sam," he paused. "I'm just that nice."

The others burst out laughing at that, "Shit, you're funny, Mikey." Paul doubled over, snickering.

Michael took the comics from David, drawing his shoulders back and pretending to look offended, "what? I'm practically a saint." Barring the killing, mild brotherly bullying, and general loss of moral restraint...of course.

"Alright, saint, feeling hungry? I could go for another bite to eat."

He paused thoughtfully, rolling the comics up and tucking them into his jacket pockets. Whether Sam threw a bitch-fit that they'd gotten a little wrinkled or not, he honestly didn't care. He was just lucky Michael didn't plan to eat him for the hell of it, "yeah," he nodded. Honestly, it had been a nagging thought pretty much constantly in the back of his mind all night. His first meal had been a small one. Some homeless guy they'd found on the beach and shared together, as much as Michael may have wanted the meal all for himself. "I'm starving."

"Let's go get someone to eat." David was the first one out of the shop, strolling down toward the beach. In fact, he was always the first one to do anything. Michael idly wondered why it was so easy to just follow, falling in line with the rest of them behind him. It just seemed to make sense.

" _So I guess you always call the shots, huh?"_ He took a few long strides to catch up to David, walking side-by-side with him.

" _You could say that, I'm the leader of the pack, it comes naturally."_ He glanced over at him, " _Why?"_

" _Dunno. Not usually my thing,"_ he shrugged. " _Just takes some getting used to, I guess."_

" _Hasn't seemed to be a problem yet, you're settling in just fine."_

" _Yeah?"_ There weren't as many people out, now that most of the stores and shops had closed down for the night. One-by-one, even the lights were being shut off. Pretty soon most would be calling it a night. " _Seems a little too easy…"_

" _What does?"_ David cocked his head to the side slightly, " _Being pack?"_

" _Yeah...no…"_ He shook his head, " _why'd you follow me out to the bluff, David?"_

" _Why do you think? I knew what you were planning, couldn't let it happen. Would be a waste."_

"...And how long were you watching me? If you knew what I was planning, then you were definitely watching me," he spoke aloud, frowning slightly. Now that they'd had a bit of time to slow down, the thought was kind of bugging him. After all, it couldn't have been his imagination when they saw him nearly beat that guy to death on the beach. He probably should have asked sooner, after the first kill, before the first joint...it just hadn't seemed to really matter...didn't seem to _now_ , either. But if he didn't ask now, he probably never would.

David chuckled softly, "Since you _killed_ me."

...Ask a stupid question, he supposed. "Why?"

"Why not? What reason would I have not to watch the man that ran me onto a set of horns? Why wouldn't I want to watch the one _I_ had _chosen_. You passed the tests, you went through initiation, you just can't undo that. You can't get away from it. You were pack from the moment you let go at the train tracks." David stopped and looked at him, eyes locked with his. It was oddly intense, for something that started as a casual question. He tried to hold David's gaze, stare back at him with just as much force...but something inside urged him to look away. Something instinctual. He ignored it in favor of testing exactly what would happen if he didn't. David's gaze didn't waver, "Nothing to say?" He questioned, eyes narrowing slightly. Were they really going to have a fight for dominance here tonight?

"I only did what I thought was right," Michael replied defensively. Even if he didn't feel the same way anymore, didn't regret what he was now…

"And now?" He prompted, "How do you feel about what you did?" If anything his gaze intensified. Michael's breath caught in his throat as he clenched his fists. He didn't know why he was beginning to get irritated about this interaction, but he was.

"I wouldn't do it again, but you're kinda being an asshole," Michael snapped back.

He raised an eyebrow, "Oh? Am I? You're the one challenging me, Michael. How am I being an asshole?" He was cool and calm, his voice soft and level.

Finally tearing his eyes away, Michael ran a hand through his hair, "no," he let out a harsh breath of air, "I'm not."

David let his gaze soften, "I know you're new to this. I know adjusting can be difficult, just follow your instincts." He paused, "And feel free to talk to me." He was being nice for once. Now that he wasn't meeting his eyes, a wave of tension seemed to melt.

"It's...yeah..." Michael sighed. Maybe if they found a couple of chicks or something, he could take out some of the stress or whatever it was that made him nearly challenge the bleach blond. That didn't sound like a bad idea at all, actually.

Marko bit the thumb of his glove, drawing to a stop near a small jewelry shop. One of the last buildings near the pier with the lights still on. Inside there were three girls arguing at the counter while a frustrated clerk eyed the crumpled bills they were smoothing out in front of him for a pair of turquoise earrings. " _How bout some takeout_?"

The others grinned, " _Oh, I love takeout."_ Paul grinned, shark-like.

Their leader nodded his consent and they were all heading into the store, "Good evening ladies, some kind of problem?" David questioned.

Four sets of eyes, the store-owner being included in the group, turned on the boys. Nervously, the store-owner stepped back a few paces from the counter and knelt down, "now, I don't want any problems in my store tonight, guys. I'm just about to close up…"

One of the girls, the one gripping at the necklace on the counter, nodded slowly, "we're a couple bucks short…"

Michael leaned his side against the glass countertop, and while his eyes remained focused on the girls, the man behind the counter became visibly relaxed with his presence. There were, after all, only four 'Lost Boys'. At best, this punk was a hanger-on, to him, someone they no doubt had plans to mess with just like the rest of the locals, once he got wise to their antics.

David reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a wadded up twenty, tossing it on the counter, "There, that cover it?"

The store owner looked at the money warily, nodding his assent to the delight of all three girls as the one holding the necklace shoved it into her pocket, "wow!" She rounded on David, "thanks! This is a late birthday gift for my sister, and I kind of forgot until the last...second..." Her enthusiasm seemed to wane the longer she looked at him, while her friends drew closer to her, watching the boys uneasily. Even if they didn't know who they were, for whatever reason, none of them looked very friendly. Not in a good way, at least.

David gave her a friendly smile, "Care to join us for dinner?"

"Sarah, it's really late…" One of the girls whispered behind her, grabbing her friend's hand and squeezing it for emphasis.

"C'mon, what's the rush?" Paul urged, positioning himself beside the exit door.

Michael drummed on the counter, "Marko over here knows some great places open pretty late…"

Sarah nibbled at her bottom lip, looking around at the boys and then back at her friends, "well...you really did help us out…" she relented.

The bleach blonde smiled, "See, no harm in having a bite to eat, come on, it'll be fun."

The third girl in the group smiled slowly, tugging at Sarah's denim vest, "c'mon… it could be fun?"

"Okay," Sarah nodded, shaking the first girl's hand away, "calm down, Rita, jeeze...they saved my butt tonight, let's just hang out for a little bit, okay?"

The store owner looked like he was about to say something, but remained silent, taking the money and tucking it into his cash register. David wrapped an arm around Rita's shoulders, guiding them outside with a smirk. Tonight was a good night indeed!

Paul and Marko fought a little over who would take Sarah, so the ultimate honor was given to Dwayne when he managed to calm them down enough not to make a scene. Which left Michael with the last one standing in the jewelry store. He grinned at her, offering his arm in an almost gentlemanly way, and she happily took it.

"So, what's your name?" He asked, pushing the door open and stepping outside with her.

"Serena." She gave him a small smile.

Serena. Yeah, he could work with her. Not much upstairs, but not too bad on the eyes either. "Serena? I'm Mike." They trailed after the rest of the group at a distance.

"It's nice to meet you, Mike." She relaxed more and more as they walked, "So, umm, how long have you been here?"

"Month and a half...almost," he shrugged. "Not very long." Yet. "How about you?" The shop light behind them was hurriedly shut off, leaving the boardwalk that much darker. No more music blaring, no more crowds left...he'd have thought it was creepy, if he was still human.

"All my life, I was born here. I think you'll like it here, well, umm, do you like it here so far?"

"It's alright," he led her towards his bike, "there's a lot of bad crowds around, though. Gotta be careful about them," he smirked, glancing over at David.

David smirked back at him as Serena spoke, "But, you seem like you can protect me…" She gave him the sweetest puppy dog eyes, they might have been moving if he cared about things like that. Or still did. Star's plaintive looks and sighs were enough to last him a lifetime, and losing his ability to really sympathize...well, the combination didn't really work in the girl's favor.

"Let's take a ride, we'll get some food on our way, I know just the place." David settled onto the bike, motioning for Rita to get on behind him.

* * *

"Thanks for the ride, Mrs. Grant," Sam waved to the car as he shifted his backpack and started jogging across the front lawn. He was honestly shocked he'd made it through that study session after the scene Ed and Alan had made at the library. A part of him felt a little bad, but he couldn't...well, he had to move on.

"Mom!" Sam shouted, banging on the front door, "mom, grandpa...I left my key in my room!" He hammered away on the front door several more times.

Grandpa was the one who met him at the door, pulling it open, "Stop making so much noise, your mom's sleepin'."

"Sorry," Sam stepped through the door, "thought she was still up. Mike come home yet?"

"Yeah, he was here, somethin' off 'bout him but he was here."

He shrugged his bag from his shoulders, "off? Like how? Was he red-eyed, or something? Did he talk about a bunch of sappy rock ballads?" Man, that breakup must've hit him pretty hard.

"Think he'd been drinking. Was a little mean."

"Mean? Mike?" Sam looked at him warily, "what'd he do?" Shit, if he was starting to act like dad, that was the last thing they needed right now.

"Didn't get violent, just mean words." He shrugged, "Just keep an eye on him, I'm sure he'll be back."

"Back?! He left again?" Sam exclaimed incredulously. "Where'd he go?"

"Said he found a place, wanted some time away."

Jeeze, why did Mike have to make everything so dramatic lately? He didn't used to be like this. Maybe it had something to do with those douchebag shit-suckers they were still cleaning up after. "Did he tell you how long he'd be gone?" Sam asked hopefully, skipping through the kitchen and towards the stairs.

He shook his head, "No, sure he'll be back soon though, tomorrow maybe."

"Alright grandpa," Sam called down, "I'll wait up for him after school."

"Go get some sleep! You gotta get up in the morning and it's getting late." How he hated to be the responsible one, it just made things so much more difficult. Tomorrow he was _definitely_ going to tell Mike what a douche he was being.

* * *

"Sorry, this is the best I can do," Michael apologized flatly, laying his jacket over the back of the couch and pulling Serena into his arms.

She let out a soft giggle, falling into him, "Hi." It was amazing what one bottle of beer could do to some chicks.

The rest of the boys were milling about in different rooms, showing their meals...dates...what Michael could only assume was a temporarily good time before they finished up. He wasn't sure where David was, but right now he was a little more focused on his own fun, "comfy?" He nuzzled against her neck, breathing in the scent of cheap body spray and sweat. It was unbelievably tempting to just bite down and finish her off. He kept his eyes half-lidded just in case she sobered up enough to notice his face right now.

Deft fingers reached under her blouse to make quick work of the clasp at her back, and he eased her back further onto the couch, kissing her neck, reluctantly drawing his lips to her cheek and mouth. He began to mentally count to 100 to distract himself from the scent and hunger calling to him.

She gasps, arching her neck, the line of her throat looking so perfect, making it so easy for him to just sink his teeth in. He hit thirty, and just as he began to push her blouse up, he snapped, digging his fangs into her throat and shredding the skin in a desperate attempt to get as much as he could in one gulp. _Fuck..._ he hadn't meant to do that.

She screamed, jerking beneath him, her nails scrambling at his back, trying to get him to let go. The more the struggled, and the more adrenaline that began to rush through her dying system, the deeper he dug in, until there was nothing left but a trickle, and finally, he was taking long pulls from drying muscles to try and get at every last drop he could.

By the time he'd finally pulled back, he was only moderately concerned that this might mean he'd possibly never get laid again, and far more satisfied with a well-earned meal.

"Couldn't help it, could you?" David's voice rang out from behind him.

He scrubbed at his face with his forearm, turning back to glare at the bleach blond, "were you watching the whole time?"

"After I ate." He paused, "We don't tend to sleep with food."

Michael relaxed in his seat, pulling his jacket out from under the body beside him, "then what do you do? You just...go without?"

He let out a snort, "Fuck no, we sleep with each other."

His eyebrows shot up, "with _guys?_ Seriously?"

"What's wrong with that?" He paused, "Are you really hung up on it?"

He picked at a flake of blood under one of his nails, considering the question. Oddly enough, even though he'd always _known_ he was very firmly pitching for the right team, the idea didn't seem...completely unappealing. In the grand scheme of things, killing people was probably a little higher up on the list of things he shouldn't be doing. "I guess not…did you always sleep with dudes, or was that just something you started doing after you turned?"

"I'm equal opportunity." He shrugged, "Why deny myself something that's fun." He paused, "But no, didn't really sleep with guys before."

Michael wrinkled his nose, "dude...you didn't like...screw Max too, did you?" He was fairly confident he'd throw up his last meal if he thought about it too much. That guy was...the fact that mom even wanted to date him was bad enough.

David was silent for a moment, thinking about what he was going to say, "Max…" He sighed, "The bastard fucked me a couple times to show dominance, in the beginning, beyond that, no."

He nodded, "well, guess you don't have to do it anymore...so...that's a plus." And suddenly he was far more grateful grandpa had dusted the bastard.

"Having him out of the way is good. He was a pain in the ass."

"That's one way of putting it," Michael remarked, covering his mouth to avoid laughing.

His eyes narrowed slightly, it looked like he wanted to say something but kept his mouth shut, "Let's take care of the body. Time you learned how."

Michael nodded, climbing to his feet as he shrugged on his jacket, "was wondering if you guys just left them for the cops to find all the time…" It didn't seem to make sense. Sooner or later they'd get caught if that's how things worked with every meal.

"Usually burn them or toss them out over the ocean. That's the best one really, no one finds bodies out there." He left to go grab his meal but was back a second later, "That's the one we're gonna do tonight."

"Gotcha," Michael nodded, hefting the girl over his shoulder, "can't say I'm the best date, sorry," he patted her leg, heading towards the exit beside David.

It didn't take them very long to fly out over the ocean, dumping the bodies was done without ceremony, they just dropped them and returned back to the hotel.

"That was fun," Michael grinned, brushing his hair out of his face before they headed inside, where he could already hear the others laughing and shouting. Their girl likely long gone. The wind was beginning to pick up, stirring up sand and grit. He squinted, shielding his eyes and glancing back at David. "You coming in?" There was an odd look on his face he couldn't quite read. He'd try to snoop on his thoughts, but Michael hadn't really gotten the hang of that yet.

David went to move past him but stopped, looking him in the eye for a moment before kissing him and continuing past. It was soft, barely there, but it felt like his lips tangled where their leader's touched.

Michael stared after him, a little at a loss for words. _What the hell was that about?_ He shook his head, heading in after him. He wasn't grossed out like he might have expected. More taken by surprise than anything.


	6. Chapter 6

It'd been a week since Mike came by to see mom and grandpa. Sam flipped through a DC comic anxiously, trying to focus on the walls of text in-between action. It wasn't the best story, but it was one of the last in his collection he hadn't gotten through yet. Mom was in bed. Gramps was stuffing a family of squirrels...Nanook was scratching at the floor and pacing like he had to go, which Sam knew he didn't...he'd already taken the husky out earlier.

"C'mon, Nanook," he sighed, throwing his comic aside. "What's gotten into you?" Sam hopped off of his bed and knelt down beside his dog, "we need to take you to the vet? You eat something funny again?"

"What's the hubbub?" Grandpa knocked on the door, "Dog's gonna tear up the door if he keeps that up."

"I don't know why he's freaking out, grandpa, I already took him outside like 3 times," Sam sighed as he led his dog towards the door, only for Nanook to dodge past the second he pulled it open.

Grandpa let out a grunt as the dog smacked his legs on the way past, "Damn dog, where're you goin?" He moved toward the door, glaring at the beast.

Nanook ricocheted off the hallway wall and tore downstairs like someone had set off a string of black cats on his tail, until he finally reached the front door and drew to a standstill, frozen in place and staring at the barrier to the outside with such intensity, Sam wondered if somehow his husky had traded places with the creepy kid in Poltergeist.

Then...there was a knock.

"Sam? Mom?" Michael's voice rang out from the other side of the door, and Nanook whined helplessly.

"Mike?" Sam blinked before opening the door.

"Hey, how's it going?" Michael stood back on the porch, eyeing Nanook warily. The husky pressed his full weight up against Sam's leg, panting and huffing.

Slowly Sam rubbed through his fur, "Where've you been, asshole?" He glared at him, he wanted to say he missed him but at the same time it was just too sappy.

"Here. There. All over," Michael shrugged, reaching into his jacket pocket to pull out a few rolled-up comics, "found these in a dump. Figured you might want them," he held them out to Sam. Something about the way he said that made it sound like some kind of inside joke Sam wasn't in on.

His eyes grew wide as he saw what they were, "Holy shit Mike!"

"What? You already got these?" He made as if to toss them away. "I could just trash them-"

He grabbed them from him, "NO!" He sounded almost panicked.

"Jeeze, you want them that bad?" Michael smirked, ruffling Sam's hair and recoiling slightly when Nanook started growling again. "What's wrong with him?"

He shrugged, focused on the comics, "Dunno, was acting funny."

"Maybe he needs to be put down," Michael snarked, kneeling beside him, "huh, boy?"

Nanook and Sam growled at him, "He's fine, don't be a dick. Comics or not, you be nice to him."

"Hey, I'm being nice," Michael said softly, "not my fault your dog's going psycho." He drew back, "seen those dork friends of yours lately?"

He shook his head, "Moving past that, got new friends."

"Saw their shop, man...it's in bad shape...looked like they were closing down…" Michael shrugged, "new friends? Already? Well, look at you...finally hitting puberty, Sammy? Got a girlfriend yet?" He paused, "or _boyfriend?"_ What the hell was wrong with him? Mike was being a major dickhead tonight.

"Dude, you're an asshole."

"Just trying to check up on my little bro," Michael rolled his eyes. "Never seen you with a chick, Sammy. Figured I'd ask."

He was silent for a moment, "Thanks, for the comics."

"...I'd better get going. Told Star I wouldn't be out too long," he skipped back a few steps, pausing just at the edge of the porch, the light just barely illuminating the edges of his jacket, "hey...Sammy…"

"Yeah?" He scowled slightly.

"Would you have staked me? If those assholes won, and I killed somebody?"

He wasn't sure how to answer that. Would he have? He swallowed hard, "I don't know." He said softly, "Don't really want to think about it, it's kind of something I don't have to worry about, right?"

He looked thoughtful, shaking his head, "guess not...I'll see you around, Sam," and just like that, he was gone. One minute standing there on the edge of the light, the next...it was like he melted into the dark and disappeared.

Sam scowled, fingers going deeper into Nanook's fur, "Something's off…" He glanced at the comics, "But...he did get me comics…"

* * *

Alan spread out the last of the pictures. Operation: Save Sam was in full swing. Reconnaissance was the first step, the second was forming a plan. Pictures of Sam littered the floor. They had been tracking him, taking pictures, keeping track of everything he was doing, who he was with, what he was doing. They'd done a damn fine job of it too if he did say so himself.

Thanks to that mess at the store, they had plenty of time to do it, too...whoever had decided piss and paint in their comic shop was the way to stop the Frog brothers from saving Santa Carla had another thing coming. Their parents were pretty mad about the missing cash, and thinking about leasing the store...but that was another problem to worry about later.

"He nearly saw me in the bathroom today, but I pulled a code 45 and managed to hide just in time," Edgar grunted. "No doubt about it, Alan...he's a vampire butt monkey alright."

"So, what're we gonna do about it? We gotta find the blood sucker and take him out."

"Simple...we just gotta find out where he goes after school, but before he gets home...I'm thinking that library study group might be a cover…you see the way that lady looked when she drug us outside? I thought she was gonna chow down on us right then and there!" Ed paused, "and it'd explain the long nails…"

Alan was silent for a moment, "It was still daylight."

Edgar frowned, scrunching up his nose, "sunscreen?"

"You saw that hand that grabbed us, no way." He shook his head, "Sunscreen's not _that_ good."

Edgar relented and continued pacing, "you notice Sam eating anything funny at lunch? Could be a clue…" He was really reaching.

Alan scrambled through the pictures, pulling out one of Sam eating lunch with those _friends_ of his, "Pizza…" He pulled out another one, "Sandwich…"

"Pizza...sandwich," Ed repeated, nodding. "Does he drink anything? Koolaide? Tomato juice? Anything red?" There _had to be something,_ a straw they could grasp at to get to the bottom of this. They just needed to figure out what it was.

He shook his head, "Just coke and water."

Ed sighed, flopping down on the couch, "then we've got nothing...for all we know, he could just be normal, decided to just ditch us…" he stared down at his feet morosely.

"We could break in…"

"We...we could what?!" Edgar jerked his head up. "Alan, are you crazy?"

"What? We need to find out more!"

"Well, yeah, but…" He lowered his voice conspiratorially, "what if we get caught?"

He shrugged, "Let's just not get caught, okay?"

"...I...I guess if that's what it takes to save Sam…" Edgar slowly nodded, "it's what we gotta do…"

* * *

David stood outside the gate to Max's old house. Part of him didn't want to go past the gate, didn't want to set foot in that house, but at the same time he wondered. He wondered what Max had left behind and he wondered if Thorn was still alive or if he'd gone back to hell. The place was pretty much untouched. You play human, you don't want people swinging by if you have to disappear for awhile.

Michael leaned against the gate, peering through it, "not exactly Dracula's castle…"

"No, bills are probably paid up for years." He hopped over the gate, "Not the smartest thing you can do though."

Marko grinned, slapping Michael on the back as he passed through, Paul and Dwayne following soon after.

They'd been here a few times, of course. Well, everyone besides Michael. Usually it was just a quick flyover, but more than once Max had called them in for the occasional lesson or chat. They wouldn't be missed. Without further ceremony, David threw open the door and stepped inside.

Dust already on the furniture, shredded carpet in spots near the door. Various little clues of poor purchases you'd expect a human going through a midlife crisis to make. Yep. Same as they'd left it last time.

Michael squinted at a large animal-shaped scorch mark near the couch, sniffing at the air and gagging, "smells like bad eggs and burnt fur…"

David smirked, "Thorn took a one way trip downstairs." He strolled into the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out a couple bottles of what looked like wine, "Blood wine. Not Max's blood though, human, has a nice kick to it." He tossed one to Dwayne. He grinned as he caught it, tearing the cork out with his teeth and spitting it on the ground.

Michael eyed the bottles, "is it good cold?" He wrinkled his nose distastefully.

Dwayne held it out to him, "Try it."

He slowly reached out to grab the bottle, glancing back up at Dwayne, then David, Paul, and Marko. After he took a swig and passed it, he looked genuinely surprised, "thought you were fucking with me...that's not bad."

David grinned, taking a drink before passing and pulling out another bottle, "Drink up boys, let's have some fun!"

It wasn't long before Paul was cackling as he dug

through Max's closet, yanking out boxes of heavily deodorised body parts, "gave us all kinds of shit about cleaning up, and couldn't be bothered to take out his own trash," he laughed, dumping the box all over the living room carpet.

Michael rolled his eyes, dropping down on a pristine white couch to kick his heels back while he held a half-finished bottle of wine and took a good long gulp before passing it off to David. "How's he make his stuff…" He paused, "how' _d?_ " He had a spacey smile on his face as he let go of the bottle, watching Marko snatch up one of the dismembered arms from the ground, dusty with carpet freshener and rot. The blonde vampire snickered as he tried to pry off a class ring stuck firmly on one of the fingers.

Dwayne circled the room, "I think he had a record player stashed somewhere...a radio...something…"

David chuckled, sitting next to him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders, "Kind of a combination of herbs, wine, and fresh blood, a lot goes into it." He took a long drink before handing the bottle back, "Mmmm, I think I know where the recipe is…"

Michael settled back, too relaxed from the drugged wine to notice David's arm, "yeah? Easy to make?" His eyes were half-closed now as he took yet another swig.

Giving a crow of success, Marko polished his newly-acquired prize right before Paul tackled him to the ground to try and snag it.

"Just takes some time, we can keep his stash though." He discreetly pulled Michael a little closer.

Michael gave him a slightly confused look, shaking away whatever doubtful thoughts he might have bouncing around in his head in favour of settling back into David's arm lazily while he watched Marko and Paul wrestle on the ground. David pushed the bottle into Michael's hands, urging him to drink a little more.

Music filtered into the room through a crackling stereo, and Dwayne strolled back into the room with a smirk of success on his face, "Damn, finally got that piece of shit fixed?" David chuckled, looking at Dwayne.

"I'm not an electrician," he replied defensively. He gave Paul a good kick when they rolled too close, tossing his hair back over his shoulders.

Michael laughed, draining even more of the contents of the bottle and licking his lips as a trail dripped down his chin. Slowly the bleach blonde tipped his head, licking up the dribble of wine before looking back at Dwayne, "How'd you get it to work then?"

"...Kicked the fuck out of it." Dwayne shrugged.

Paul tore the ring away, leaping up and diving for the couch to duck behind David, Marko glaring up at him with a snarl tearing past his lips. David growled back at him, "Don't even fucking think about it."

"What?" He asked innocently, standing up and sitting beside Paul, "I'm not gonna do anything…"

David growled softly again, "You'd better not." He nipped Michael's ear softly, "Asshole." He glared at Marko and Paul, rubbing Michael's shoulder softly. Just when the younger vampire was about to say something, Paul reached forward and smacked Marko right across the face.

The next few seconds went in slow motion. Marko leapt, Paul shouted, the couch was flipped, Dwayne dodged out of the way, and David sank his teeth into the back of Marko's neck, pinning him down with a snarl.

Michael untangled his legs from Paul's, cussing, "you guys are dicks…"

The moment Marko laid still beneath him he let up, grabbing Paul and pinning him down by the back of the neck, "I told you not to do it, you ruined my buzz."

Dwayne snatched up the discarded ring on the ground and pocketed it, snorting, "idiots."

Lying still, Paul huffed under David's grip, "I didn't do it…"

Michael propped the couch back up and tucked his hands into his jacket pockets, "I'm gonna go explore...stay away from you assholes for awhile."

David growled lowly, releasing him and walking out the door without another word. Losing the buzz sucked, but he probably wasn't going to get a good moment like that with Michael for awhile and that was worse.

Paul and Marko looked up at David's departing back and then at the rest of the remains scattered in the ground.

"...Wanna go see if there's any other good shit in Max's closet?" Paul grinned.


	7. Chapter 7

Edgar barrel rolled across the front lawn, grunting and gasping. Doing it repetitively across the whole stretch wasn't easy. But he had to be stealthy or the old man would catch them. Bastard never seemed to leave the house.

"Alan!" He hissed, dodging into a bush, "Alan, where are you?"

Alan sprinted across the lawn, diving into the bush beside him, "Stop yelling."

"Look, we gotta stick together on this, or we're through!" Edgar whispered, though still loud enough to leave his brother's ear ringing.

Alan rubbed his ear, grumbling, "Shut up, Ed, you're gonna bug the old man, I don't wanna get caught by him!"

"You got the lock pick?" Edgar ignored him.

He nodded, keeping his mouth shut, maybe Ed would get the hint, not, "I still say we check the window first."

"That's the first-" he shut his mouth and shoved Alan lower to the ground when the old man yanked open the front door and walked out to the porch in his bathrobe, drinking from...a milk carton…

Alan scowled, why was he drinking from the carton? That was just...wrong…Gramps took another drink, looking out into the shadows around the bushes. It wasn't quite sunset yet. It made Alan nervous when his gaze swept over their bush. He hunkered down further into the foliage.

Ten long minutes, and he finally trailed inside, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him.

Ed exchanged a look with his brother, mouthing the words, "...that works too."

The pair kept low to the ground, slinking into the house, being as quiet as they could. No sign of the old man.

"You think he's a zombie?" Ed whispered, nudging his brother's shoulder.

He shook his head, tiptoeing upstairs, "No way, he's too...crafty." He paused, "What if he's the vamp?"

"Oh shit!" Ed exclaimed, looking around and lowering his voice, " _oh shit...that's why he knows about them!_ "

"Let's see what's in Sam's room first." Alan prodded.

They dodged down the hall, Edgar keeping his back pressed close to it and taking slow, shallow breaths as they edged towards Sam's bedroom door. "Explains all the creepy animal shit, too…"

Alan pushed open the door, cringing as it squeaked, "Shit."

No sign of the old man barreling towards them with dripping fangs and flying flannel robe...yet.

"I'll keep watch," Ed hissed, clapping Alan on the back. "I'm here for you, man."

Great, he had to go in by himself and try to find something. With a sigh he slid inside, taking in the room. It _looked_ normal, like the last time they'd been there...minus the whole 'waiting for the attack of the shit-stuckers' element. But...there had to be something...something wrong with the place. Like those familiar-looking limited release comics on his be-...the fuck?! Those were theirs! From their store!

"Alan…" Ed called out softly from the doorway, "Alan...get out here… _ALAN!_ "

When his brother used that tone he knew he'd better hurry. He had thought about grabbing the comics but there was no time, he did the only thing he could do and jumped out the window.

As for Edgar, well...every man for himself sometimes. He only hoped his brother was smart enough to get away before he got all the blood sucked out of him. Maybe there was some truth to his sunscreen theory…

* * *

David hummed softly as he licked the blood off his fingers. He'd gone off to hunt on his own, needed some time to think. This was his territory now and he was going to have to defend it, well, they all were going to have to. It wouldn't take long for news of Max's demise to travel. Things like that never did. There were always packs looking for new territory or to expand into new areas. Fresh hunting grounds, new blood, there was a lot to gain in Santa Carla. It was up to David to prove that he could lead, that this was his town and no one was going to take it from him.

With a sigh he hefted the broken corpse of his dinner up onto his shoulder. Then there was Michael. He was settling in just fine but for David there was this itch that he just couldn't scratch. He wanted to be near their newest member, wanted to make sure he knew his place, and that place was...with the pack, not with him, no, he had other things to worry about. He couldn't be chasing after the other vampire. Oh, but he wanted to. Maybe it was because Michael was _his_ , not Max's, but _his_ first creation.

He was so lost in thought he almost didn't hear Dwayne come up behind him, "What are you going to do?"

How was it that the other vampire always seemed to know what was on his mind without reading it? He heaved out a long sigh, shifting the weight of the corpse, "I'm not sure. There are things that need to be taken care of. Max's death will make others think we're weak, we can't show any vulnerability." Going after Michael would be seen as just that, wouldn't it?

"We will be fine, no need to worry about them. I meant, what are you going to do with Michael? There's still a couple months before…"

He didn't need to be reminded of _that_ , "I'm going to put Michael on hold. Strictly going to be teaching him what he needs to know."

The brunette let out a laugh, tipping his head back, "You're fooling yourself. You can't keep your hands off him, sure, you may be teaching him but you won't just let him go. What if Paul or Marko decides to go after him?"

David snarled, growling lowly, teeth bared and eyes gold, "They wouldn't dare." He bit out, maybe he did need to do more? Prove that Michael was his, "He's _mine._ "

They had never had a problem like this before. Max had been fairly strict about certain rules, and one of them was that loyalty from all of the boys went to him first, and any other bonds they had were to be incidental at best, and then only if they somehow served _him_ in some way. Not that it stopped David, Dwayne, Marko...or especially Paul from fucking with the old bastard at every opportunity, despite the generally light consequences. With Max gone, David had yet to really decide on any of the new 'rules' he'd want them to follow...but this one, he was fairly certain of.

"So...don't touch him, then," Dwayne quirked an eyebrow. Other than certain...times...most of his interests tended to remain in the realms of Keats and Shelley anyway.

"Unless it's to stop his ass from doing anything stupid, don't touch him." He couldn't restrict all touching, it was part of being pack, "No sex." He amended.

Dwayne snorted, stepping back and glancing up at the sky, "doesn't seem like he's that hard up yet anyway. Don't worry about it." They'd all taken more than their fair share of time in the beginning getting used to that particular kind of bonding, and Michael likely wouldn't be any different.

David nodded, "Make sure the others know, I don't want someone doing something stupid." He sighed, "Pain in the ass." He grumbled, "How long before someone tries to oust us?"

"Dunno...strong pack, they might pick winter to move in. Others? Any day now," he replied with a slight shrug of his shoulders. Never the sort to sugarcoat, Dwayne.

"Winter would suck, not sure how well we could handle it." Okay, so sometimes he didn't sugarcoat it either, "You know, with _that._ "

"You're over eighty. You'll manage, David. If we're getting each other's backs, we'll be fine," he paused, "as long as nobody does anything stupid. I'll watch Paul."

He nodded, "Marko too."

"Y…" Dwayne sighed, "you _want_ me to go insane, don't you?" He already spent a fair share of his time making sure the two didn't pull stunts bad enough to get them all staked by _competent_ hunters, with the eventual season change...it was going to be a whole new nightmare for him to deal with. At least when Max was around, he did have the luxury of a small buffer. Marko and Paul didn't appreciate Max's brands of punishment when they really did go too far.

"I'll just have to get creative, I did take Max's bull whip on that last visit. They always hated that." He paused, "Just warn them, I'm not going to take any of their shit and no, I don't want you to go insane, two insane packmates is more than enough."

* * *

It still made her nervous to go outside after dark. Still made her worry there were other things out there, just as dangerous as Max and the others who'd come into her home to try and destroy her family. There were some days on her lunch breaks Lucy would find herself nervously trailing over to the produce section at work to palm a bulb of garlic, and on these later shifts, inspect the bathroom mirror just in case any who passed behind her just so happened to lack the reflections you'd expect from any normal person.

But she'd gotten better. Accidentally washing one of her work blouses with a bulb of garlic had Forced Lucy to abandon that particular habit. She, after all, didn't want to spend her days smelling like a Caesar salad while she checked customers out at the cash register.

Tonight, just as she was closing up her till, she noticed something. Two teenagers, both just a little bit older than Sam, greedily stuffing candies into their pockets. They looked like they hadn't had a good bath in over a week, and hardly had the boy or the girl even touched a brush. Sighing, Lucy tucked her till key into her pocket and crossed around the store, bypassing a few other customers as they headed towards the closing cashier, "excuse me," Lucy whispered, touching one of their shoulders. "Are you both hungry?"

The boy jumped, spinning around and looking at her with wide eyes. Slowly he nodded, "Yeah…"

Lucy smiled, digging into her purse, "here, let me buy you dinner," she eyed the girl with her hand in her pocket, "it's a lot better than junk food."

They both eyed her wearily before nodding their consent, "Thanks." The girl smiled slightly at her.

"I've been through tough times too," she told them with a wink, "let's go pick some food out for you two, see if we can't find something better. Are your parents with you?" She hated seeing kids like this on the street. It just wasn't right.

They shared a look before he spoke, "We don't have any."

"...did you run away? It's okay, you can tell me."

"Yeah, don't turn us in." She pleaded.

Lucy nodded. Her primary concern right now was getting these kids fed, they could worry about the other details later. She couldn't imagine Sam running away, or Michael...when he was younger, at any rate.

Once they were leaving the store with two packed grocery sacks, Lucy was satisfied she'd at least helped them a little. "Now, what are your names?" She asked just as they'd left the building.

"Alice and Ryan." He said, still eyeing her, he looked so hungry, "Can we, umm, have some food now?"

"Of course!" Lucy set the sacks on the hood of her car and fished out two plastic-sealed sandwiches, passing them to the kids. "Here," she dug a pen and old receipt from her purse, "let me give you my number. If you need anything, give me a call."

He took it and the sandwiches, shoving it into his pocket, "Thanks."

She tucked the pen back into her purse and passed the grocery sacks to the girl, "now, I know it's none of my business, but if you ever decide you want to go back to your family...I'll take you, or I'll pay for your ticket, no questions asked." She began to unlock her car door, "heaven knows I had my own share of arguments with mine when I was your age." It was the last half hour before closing, and the parking lot was almost empty by now. Normally she would have been gone long before, if she hadn't run into these poor kids. In a way, they acted a lot like Michael seemed to these days. A little distant. A little...guarded. But she could understand that all too well. God only knew what they'd been going through to end up like this.

Just as Lucy was pulling her door open, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked back, and the girl recoiled as if she'd just been burned, burrowing herself against her brother's side and looking up at him with an odd frown. For a moment, she didn't know why...Lucy felt a little bit of fear creep up on her...but she shrugged it away and climbed into her car. Her gaze following them in her rearview mirror long after she'd driven to the end of the parking lot.


	8. Chapter 8

He looked down at the kid crouched in front of Sam's door, eyes narrowed angrily, "What the hell do you think you're doin'?" He grumbled. What was with kids these days? They had no respect, breaking into people's homes, invading their personal spaces, damn fools.

"...W-...I was just looking for the bathroom," the kid replied slowly, his eyes filled with hate. Hate? Sam's friends were getting weirder and weirder these days.

His scowl deepened, "You know where the damn bathroom is, why'd you think you had to break in? Sam's not here, could have told you that at the door. You don't just go waltzin' into someone else's home, boy. What's wrong with you?"

Suddenly, and without warning, the kid reached into his coat pocket and pulled out...a candy bar. He blinked at it several times and shoved his hand back into his pocket, pulling out...a cross. "Stay back!"

Sadly his scowl couldn't get any deeper and he reached out, wrapping his hand around the cross and pulling, "Honestly, kid, you've got a problem."

"You're not burning…" The kid screwed up his features, confusion immediately wiping out the misplaced hatred.

"I'm not a damn vampire, you idiot."

"But...but…" He faltered, "you're...you kn…" His shoulders slumped, "yeah...I guess that makes sense…it's just...all the animals…and you're so creepy..." He paused, "uh...I mean old. I mean…Sam's under mind control, and you just made the most sense." He straightened up, "we're trying to save your grandson from bloodsuckers. You gotta help us, before it's too late." From threatening to begging, this kid was a nutcase.

"Sam's not under mind control, there are no more damn vampires here." He wasn't going to share his suspicions with the little idiot.

He shook his head vehemently, "that can't be true. He won't even talk to us anymore! There's gotta be vampires...or aliens...or something else…"

He sighed heavily, "Sam's trying to move forward and past all this vampire stuff, wants to make a new life. You'd do well to do the same."

The front door slammed shut below them, and it was loud enough to rattle windows. Damn kid always slammed that thing too hard. "Grandpa! I'm back from study group...mom said we were ordering Chinese tonight!"

The delusional boy looked up at the old man, screwing up his face. It looked like _something_ had finally gotten through to him. "Can...can I sneak out through the back?"

He nodded, "Go, get out of here." It wasn't that he felt for the kid, he just didn't want Sam to suffer. Though why his grandson didn't set these two boys straight in the first place was beyond him. He was getting too old for this kind of crap in his house. Plus, he hadn't even gotten around to telling Lucy about that phone call from the girly Michael told everyone he'd moved in with.

* * *

Michael flipped through a row of records, pausing every so often to admire a cover or consider swiping one, but he didn't much see the point. They'd probably have to go back to Max's or break into someone's house for a bit of party crashing if he ever wanted to listen to it. Maybe he'd grab a few tapes on his way out. You could only listen to the same junk so many times before it got on your nerves, and he could swear Paul was always running through the same mix tape every fucking night.

"You done?" He noticed Marko slipping in from the back room, locking the door behind him and pocketing the key to add to his collection later. Sometimes it was nice taking tours outside of Santa Carla when you had the time, and it meant easier indoor meals.

Marko grinned at him, "Yep, found a couple things I wanted." He took a moment to look Michael up and down, "And something I still want."

Michael snorted, looking back down at the records, "yeah...no, dude. Just...no."

Marko scowled, "Why not? Come on, it'll be fun, stress relief!" He paused, "I'd even let you be on top."

He paused to consider, " _nope._ You're too short. Not my type." Well, that and the fact that he hadn't completely given up on the idea of chicks, yet. Not completely.

He pouted, actually pouted, "Fine, but remember for next time when someone has you pinned that I offered to let you be on top."

"Pinned?" He drew back from the records, "nobody's going to pin me, asshole."

Marko snickered, yeah, right, David or Dwayne could definitely pin him and he wouldn't put it past Paul to at least try, "We'll see."

He scowled, "fuck you, man." That was all he had to say about it, when he noticed blood trickling from beneath the door, "you didn't finish?" He wasn't one for someone else's leftovers, but it seemed like such a waste.

He shrugged, "They were still twitching, want some?"

Michael nodded, pulling away from the records he'd been examining. "So...you wanna burn this place, or what?" He trailed over to the locked room, holding out his hand for the key. Honestly, the smell was pretty distracting. Kind of made it hard to think.

Once Marko pressed the key into his hand, Michael hesitated. He was giving him a very odd look...he scowled, shoving the key into the lock, "what are you smi-" he was cut off when a pair of bright yellow eyes peered back at him from the dark, and snapping fangs dripping in bloody drool very nearly tore his throat out just as Michael stumbled back from the door and slipped on the puddle of blood.

He came very close to beating the shit out of both Paul and Marko as they cackled down at him on the ground.

"Aw, Mikey, did I scare you?" Paul grinned, wiping the drool from his chin.

Marko grinned wickedly, "See, should have taken me up on my offer!"

Michael grumbled as he climbed to his feet, shaking his head and flicking droplets of blood on both of them, "gonna have to wash my hair now...you guys are dicks…"

They both laughed, grinning at him, Paul trying to catch the flung blood with his tongue.

"I'm going to get both of you back for that one," he warned, slugging Paul in the shoulder as he walked past him towards the section of tapes along the walls, still intent on snagging a few before they headed out. Not that he was in much of a mood for music anymore. His hair felt all sticky now.

"Guess it's bath night!" Marko's grin widened, "There's a great little hot spring we like to use, I suppose we'll be paying it a visit!"

Michael nodded. That didn't sound like a bad idea. Maybe he'd get them both back in the process...he just had to come up with something creative. "Sounds fun."

The two boys grinned before Marko was leading the way outside and into the night.

* * *

David leaned back, eyes closing as he took a drink of blood wine, his eyes falling closed. Dwayne and he had come back to an empty cave, the others having gone off to do who knows what. Dwayne was relaxing, reading, again, it seemed he was always reading. Not that he could blame him, it was something to do and at the moment David was drowning his boredom in getting high. Sure, party all night, never get old...but sometimes, especially after a few decades, getting creative with the parties could only go so far.

Michael skipped down the steps with a self-satisfied smirk on his face, "have fun?" He asked Dwayne and David casually as he sprawled on the couch.

"You're looking a little wet, did they show you the hot springs or were they assholes again?" He questioned, opening his eyes and looking at him.

"Little bit of both," Michael replied, slipping off his shoes and leaning over the side of the couch to snatch up a worn-out girlie mag. "I took care of them, though," he shrugged, flipping through the pages idly and ignoring the pair who trailed into the hotel looking _very_ unhappy. "Oh, you didn't want to stay out there a little longer?" Michael lowered the magazine, a mock expression of concern on his face. "Something happen?"

The pair gave him the finger, glaring at him, while David chuckled, "Looks like you all had a good time."

"Sorry we missed it," Dwayne drawled, closing his book. "Marko, what happened to your hair, man?" They looked like they'd been sawed at by something vicious and sharp, and one of them was even missing.

"Suits him, doesn't it?" Michael snorted, ignoring an extra death glance from the smaller vampire as he hopped onto the edge of the fountain and tenderly rubbed at his damaged braids.

David took another swig, licking his lips slowly, "Oh, yes, suits him quite nicely."

Paul, for his part, appeared to be intact. Then, of course, he had to dig out a few shreds of blonde hair from the back of his teeth...and somehow a mental image of what may have gone down became just a little bit clearer for the two who'd missed all of the action.

Marko stewed on the edge of the fountain, holding out a hand towards one of his pigeons that had nestled on the rusted chandelier in the center of it. Clearly, there was a war about to take place between him and Michael, for whatever reason. The bright side? Well, it was yet another way to pass the time and keep things interesting when they weren't eating.

Paul edged up behind David's chair and leaned over it, whispering in his mind, " _my money's on Marko for this one."_

The bleach blonde raised an eyebrow, " _You think so? Mine's on Michael."_

" _Maybe they'll both get bored before anyone wins,"_ Dwayne chipped in. " _I vote stalemate."_

" _Alright, we have a bet."_ He took another drink before offering it to Dwayne, " _You don't get any."_ He said pointedly to Paul.

" _Why not?!_ " Paul drew back, kicking one of the wheels on David's chair lightly. Not enough to shift him, just hard enough for him to feel the seething childlike-anger in the move.

A soft growl escaped his lips, his eyes narrowing, " _Because you're behaving like a child."_

"You just want it all because that's the last one, don't you?" Paul accused him aloud.

"No, I have two more." He said calmly, taking it back from Dwayne.

Marko gave David a plaintive look, pointing to his wounded locks, "can I get some? For the emotional trauma?"

"It'll grow back, Marko," Michael rolled his eyes, examining a foldout.

David looked thoughtful, "One drink." He offered it to him, holding it out.

Tossing his pigeon aside, Marko skipped up and snatched the bottle from David's hand, more than happy to interpret the 'one drink' rule as he saw fit, taking a very long and very breathless gulp from the bottle while everyone else watched in astonishment. When he pulled back, his pupils were dancing.

David snatched it out of his hand, lip pulled back, "No more for you, ever." He stated, taking the last drink of blood wine.

Marko snickered and tripped over his own feet, "yeah?" He asked, lazily pulling himself back up over the side of the fountain. He didn't look convinced, nor even concerned. He was about to ride pretty high, and the signs were already fairly obvious.

"You're a piece of work," Michael laughed, shaking his head.

"Yeah, well...you're _gonna_ be…" Marko threatened emptily, his head thumping down against the side of the fountain.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Michael frowned.

"...gonna mean somethin'..." Marko trailed off, relaxing.

* * *

Alice plucked at her brother's sleeve, trying to pull him away from the warehouse door, "I don't _want_ to go back in there, Ryan. Maybe if we run now...just let the guy go...we can go back to mom and dad, pretend we never met these people, everything can be _normal_ again," she pleaded, even as her brother turned back to eye the man they'd brought with them, bound, gagged, and blindfolded. A homeless guy who'd accosted Alice on their way out of town. No love would be lost on him if his corpse washed up on the shore later, bloated and stinking even more than it already did while he was living.

"They won't be able to find us," she went on, urging her brother. "That lady back in Santa Carla...she said she'd even help us, if we needed it, right?" Her whispering grew more fevered and frantic, even as the rushed noises inside the building seemed to grow, as the...monsters inside had likely already picked up their scents. "We haven't even had any of their blood yet...Ryan... _I don't want to hurt people_ ," she was on the verge of tears now.

He hugged her close, "They'll find us if we try to leave, they won't let us go." He soothed, "It's gonna be alright."

It was surreal. A huge group of people their age, nice at first, feeding them, treating them like family...then they started asking for gifts. Odd ones. Like their time, their friendship, and then they had to trade off their family and move in with them...they stopped being nice real fast when Ryan told them to fuck off. Then they found out they weren't people. Found out they couldn't leave once they 'signed on'. Tonight was the night they were told they had to join up and be just like the rest of them, or find themselves on the menu.

The door slowly creaked open. "Ryan…" Alice whimpered, clinging to her brother even tighter, burrowing her face against his shoulder and weeping.

Ryan held her close, standing firm, pushing the guy in front of him, "We did as you asked." He said, trying to keep the quiver out of his voice.

The creature at the door beamed out at them, her fangs and the ridges in her face, her glowing eyes...rather distorting the happy and welcoming image she was trying to project. Without those, she'd look like the most unremarkable and clean-cut teenager you could ever meet. "Welcome in, then...sister...brother…"

She passed the bound man to another member inside, reaching towards Alice, "oh, sweety, are you scared? Are you both scared?" She looked back and forth between the siblings.

Ryan swallowed hard, "We want to go home." He said softly.

"Oh, don't worry, kids...you _are_ home. You're _both_ home now. Let's see if we can get you two a drink. After that, you'll feel so much better," there was an edge of cruel amusement in her voice. A dangerous promise. They knew there was no fighting her…


	9. Chapter 9

Alan stood fidgeting outside the house, pacing back and forth as he waited for his brother. Had he been caught? Was he vamp chow? Was he going to have to stake his own brother?! The possibilities were endless, and each second that passed was longer than the last. When he had to dive for the bushes to avoid being caught by Sam...for some reason, he felt oddly ridiculous.

He shouldn't have just abandoned his brother like he had. Left Ed to be devoured by the bad-tempered geriatric vampire in the house...he'd only been thinking about himself. The guilt was almost too much for him, when he suddenly caught sight of Ed...slipping around from the side of the house, his back pressed against the siding to avoid detection.

"Alan!" Ed rasped when he'd finally made his way to the bushes, immediately spotting his brother's frantically waving arm, "Alan, I gotta tell ya something...we were wrong...about all of it. Sam's not a vampire. Neither's his grandpa...he just ditched us…" He didn't look too happy to break the news.

He was frozen in shock, eyes wide, "H-He did?"

"...Yeah," Ed slumped down beside him. "He's just a jerkwad, like all the rest of em…" Admittedly, for one reason or another, the Frog brothers didn't have a very good history of keeping friends very long. Probably because they were just too hardcore for regular civilians to handle.

Alan chewed his lip a little bit, "T-The comics…" He said softly.

"I guess when mom and dad lease the place, he won't buy comics from us anymore, you're right…" Ed shrugged. "Would've charged him double for 'em now anyways."

He shook his head, "No! He has them, _the_ comics."

"What comics?" Ed asked, lowering his eyebrows. "Th... _the_ comics?! The ones that got jacked?!"

He nodded, "I saw them, in his room."

"That little…" Edgar was on the verge of blowing up, his face quickly turning from its maudlin expression to one of sheer, purple-skinned rage. "So he's the one who broke in and trashed our place...left that graffiti all over the back... _PISSED ON ALL THE AQUAMAN COMICS_!" At this point, he was standing up now, flailing his arms at the bushes in an effort to take out some of his righteous anger. The poor holly berries never saw it coming. The thorny leaves, however, were prepared...and soon he was pulling back his fists and sucking on his fingers to ease some of the pain from the various cuts he'd made.

"I dunno! I dunno if he did it but he has them!"

Ed yanked his fingers out of his mouth, a bit of spit dribbling over his bottom lip, "we're gonna have to corner him at school. Get our comics back and get him to come clean."

He nodded in agreement, "Yeah, tomorrow, let's go home."

Ed nodded, giving one last angry and hurt expression back at the Emerson house, "it's back to just us again, Alan."

* * *

This wasn't the greatest day in history. In fact, lining it up with every other day in his life, this definitely ranked as one of the top five worst. The first three being, of course, just moving to Santa Carla. The fourth being the day they'd had to pack up everything in one go. This one...this one was the fifth.

Because the first thing Sam knew when he woke up, was the sound of mom crying downstairs. Then she interrogated him about Mike, like he'd somehow been on 24/7 brother control since the asshole moved out all of a sudden. Then he found out Mike had been lying about Star, and she'd moved out-of-state the first chance she got, hadn't even stopped to say goodbye to anybody. So there he was, dealing with all that bullshit, mom worrying that Mike went crazy or started dealing drugs or some shit…

And that's when someone hit him with a freaking baseball bat in the nards the second he walked into the bathroom during P.E.

In-between the stars, the faint crying, and the feeling of being bodily drug by his shoulders into one of the stalls, he barely got a chance to get a good look at them until Ed was tying his hands to the pipe jutting up from behind the toilet, "what're you doing?!" he squeaked, still trying to regain his breath. He felt like he was going to vomit. It was very possible the downstairs twins would never be the same again.

"Where'd you get 'em, Sam?" Alan glared at him.

"What do you mean? I was born with 'em!" Sam whimpered, pushing his head back against the metal to cool his cheek.

"Don't play dumb! The comics!"

"I bought most of them in Phoenix! Yeah, okay, some of them were garage sale junk, and I might've tricked an old lady into selling her son's stuff at like ½ price, but it wasn't like he needed them anymore," he cried back weakly, terrified for his life now that he was seeing this side of the Frog brothers. Or at least on the receiving end of it this time.

"The rare ones!" Edgar pushed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"My uncle gave the Superman comic to me before he died, alright? I can't get another one for you, there aren't that many left…" His eyes widened as he stared up at the baseball bat Alan had hefted up again threateningly. He was fairly confident one more shot and he'd have to change his name to Samantha.

"The ones...on...your...bed!" Alan exclaimed, brandishing the bat.

"B...Bed?" Sam squinted. "...When were you in my room?! _Did you break into my house?!"_

"We had to! You left us no choice!"

"Because I wouldn't hang out with you?! This is exactly the kinda shit that makes me think I was right! You guys are crazy!" Sam snapped, regaining some of his confidence, bit-by-bit. The louder he got, the longer they were there, it was only a matter of time until someone else had to show up to use the urinals or something.

They both glared at him, "Just answer the question!"

"The comics on my bed…" Sam sighed, "Mike gave them to me after he moved out. Why?"

The pair backed up, sharing a look. Alan slowly lowered the bat and nodded down at Sam.

"Sorry, man," he mumbled, still sounding a little resentful, "c'mon, Ed…" He leaned towards his brother and whispered something Sam couldn't quite catch.

"You're just gonna leave me here?! Assholes!" Especially after they hit him in the nuts. Mike must've stolen those comics...which meant...shit, what was he going to tell mom? His brother had a lot to explain the next time he paid them a visit. Sam was going to make sure he didn't get out of it, either.

* * *

It had been a few weeks since the prank at the hot spring. For some reason, David was acting kind of edgy tonight. It was like everything anyone said somehow set him off, and Michael wasn't exactly sure why. He eyed their leader out of the corner of his eye while he continued tossing his baseball into the air and leaning idly against the lobby wall.

"It's pretty quiet tonight…" he remarked, breaking up some of the silence. Paul wasn't even fucking with his stereo.

He must've missed something when David and Marko went out to feed earlier. Before that, they'd both been in a pretty damn good mood...and now...well, they weren't acting like themselves at all. Kind of a buzzkill, actually.

Paul looked over at him before glancing at David then back at Michael and shrugging, "Normal."

Their bad tempers were beginning to throw him off, too. Even without a reason, it was like he could _feel_ what they were feeling...and he didn't like it. If he was going to be pissed off, he'd prefer it to either be on his terms, or at least have a god damned reason for it.

"Hm…" Michael sighed, exhaling through his nose harshly and tossing his baseball across the lobby, just barely managing to nail one of the oil barrels. The clang reverberated around the lobby, making him cringe.

David growled lowly, eyes flashing and fingers clenching, "Don't do that again."

He held up his hands in surrender, his eyebrows raised, "alright, alright…"

And just like that, they were all back to silently fuming, which only made _him_ want to fume too, and just when he'd about decided he had enough, Michael slipped out of the hotel to get a breath of fresh air. It didn't really help that much. A bit of distance, maybe, he decided...and so he hopped onto his bike and headed out to pay the family a visit. They'd be good for a bit of a laugh.

At least, that's what he thought. So...how he ended up in the kitchen with a table lamp being shone on him while grandpa, mom, and Sam hovered around...he honestly had no clue. _But..._ Michael was definitely getting pissed off all over again. They'd be lucky if he held his temper long enough not to have a three course dinner.

* * *

David was deep in thought when he finally noticed that Michael was gone. A soft growl escaped his lips, his eyes narrowed angrily. How dare he take off without a word? In a flash he was on his feet and stalking toward the exit.

"Are you going to spill before you go on a rampage?" Dwayne finally demanded, slamming his book, which he'd hardly even glanced at, to the ground.

"It's already started…" Marko growled, nearly wringing one of his birds' necks. He didn't really care. He could always get more.

"Really?" Paul hopped over to the fountain, "how many?"

"Don't know," Marko ground out as David left. Right now he didn't have the patience to tell them about the bodies they'd found on the beach. On _their_ beach.

David stopped in the entrance, "Don't do anything stupid." He ground out before taking flight and giving chase.

Of course Michael would go to his human family's home and of course the air would be filled with the scent of fritos and musty comics. How Michael couldn't have noticed the wonder twins presence he had no idea. Maybe they'd do something stupid, like fling holy water in his face and teach him a lesson before he ate them. Then again...they'd have to actually be _inside_ the house to do anything. At the moment, they were just...huddling outside beside the kitchen window like two little snoops. He took that moment to step up behind them, placing his hands on their shoulders. So what if they knew he was alive? They should fear him. They should know that he would be their death.

The boys froze together, their breaths catching in their throats...and the louder screamer, from what he recalled, was the one who slowly turned back to face him first, but they didn't get the chance to remind him before his hands clapped over both of their mouths and he slammed them against the side of the house.

Inside, the Emersons turned around, the old man squinting out the window, and seeing nothing. David had already drawn them out of sight.

"Mom," Michael said flatly, "I'm not doing drugs. I can't help if Star's a lying bitch."

"Michael!" She admonished, pressing a hand to her mouth, now that their attention was directed back at him. He could sense David nearby, of course.

"What about the comics, Mike? What about the Frog brothers' store, huh?" The little brat joined in.

Michael scowled over at his brother, a flurry of colorful ideas rushing through his mind. "I bought them somewhere else," he shrugged. He really didn't seem to have much reason to keep up the charade, and he wasn't putting much effort into it either.

David pulled the pair back away from the house and into the darkness, "You scream and I'll rip your throats out right here, right now." He hissed lowly.

"Pffgnn, mrrffffnnnrr…" One of them whimpered behind his palm.

Slowly he released their mouths but didn't let go of them, "Now, what're you doing here, talk!"

The one with the long hair and the smelly bandana sucked in a long breath of air, "we were doing a stake-out, bloods-" the other one elbowed his side before he could finish his sentence.

"We were keeping an eye out for the vamp inside...should've known _you_ were still alive…" He replied, putting up an unconvincing brave front while he simultaneously tried to dig into his pocket.

A soft snarl escaped his lips as he let them feel a prick of claws at their throats, "Stop trying to get into your pockets." He hissed, pausing briefly, "How'd you know Michael was one of us?" He questioned, knew Michael had been doing a good job at hiding, at least mostly.

"The...the comics…" The one with the short hair gasped under his grasp, pulling his hand out of his pocket hurriedly.

"Knew a bl...vampire...broke in...was the only thing that made sense…" the other one added.

These... _idiots_ had jumped to the most insane conclusion any human being could even…

Dumb luck. They were dripping with it. Practically spraying it all over the city. What kind of fucking joke was fate playing on him? Other than eat a couple of...thousand...people...David hadn't done anything to deserve this.

* * *

Michael began to drum his fingers on the table, tapping out an impatient rhythm. One bite...one well-placed shredding little bite in each of their throats, and they'd shut up. Even his mild sentimentality was quickly dissipating, or his resentment and refusal to let Marko or Paul win the bet against him that he'd crack and eat his old family…

"Michael, honey, we love you so much. I just don't want you to throw your life away because of one...little...or very big mistake. I _know_ you're dealing or maybe even doing drugs. All of the signs are there. I just want you to come clean, tell us the truth, and I'll do anything I can to help you get better," Lucy pleaded with him.

Drugs? How the hell had they decided he was doing drugs? He didn't even _look_ like a junkie…Well, maybe when he was really hungry, at least he didn't _think_ he looked like one.

"Give me one good reason I should put up with this," Michael stood up, pressing his fingers into the tabletop, coming very close to embedding them there. He was _getting_ hungry now...so maybe he was really starting to look like a junkie after all. Anger and appetite seemed to go hand-in-hand these days.

"What?!" Lucy exclaimed, pressing a hand to her mouth, "we're just trying to help you!"

He snorted, rolling his eyes, "little late for that. Trust me, I don't want help and I don't need it." Who would he chomp down on first? Grandpa would probably taste the worst, but he'd be the one most likely to think fast when Michael revealed himself...and Sam would probably taste alright, except he'd probably piss his pants too...and the smell would be off-putting. If he went for his mom, she'd definitely be the easiest, but she'd be pretty bony too…

So, Michael had a problem. His entire family would probably make a pretty terrible meal. Hell, maybe in some way they'd be useful in the future...he battled with himself trying to make up his mind, all the while everyone was staring at him as if he'd just grown a second head. Grandpa, in particular, had a funny look that probably spelled trouble if Michael didn't say or do something soon.

He slowly licked his lips, pulling back from the table and smiling back at them, "sorry...I kinda blew up there...there's nothing wrong with me. I bought those comics off a drifter after work the other day, sorry, Sam. Mom, I lied about Star because I knew you didn't want me moving out, and probably would've put your foot down if you knew I was doing it alone. Are we all happy now?"

They'd get a free pass tonight. Next time they fucked with him, he was going to eat them...even if they all did make for a pretty shitty meal. Grandpa was still giving him a funny look, "Alright, Michael." He paused, "You need to come by more often." He said calmly, his scent was weary, unsure of Michael and his attitude.

He paused, examining his grandfather's face thoughtfully. It'd be good practice to keep his temper in check, that was for fucking sure. "Yeah…" he nodded, "I'll think about it."

Lucy sat down at the table, pressing a shaking hand to her forehead and staring up at her eldest, "I don't think I know you anymore, Michael. You're scaring me lately, and I don't know what to do."

He shrugged, "that's just who I am now. People change, mom. So maybe I changed more than most...you'll get used to it," he gave them all a dismissive wave as he left. It was the closest to affectionate he'd be able to get. Honestly, it was pretty damn affectionate, considering how close they'd come to being snacks tonight.

* * *

David was waiting outside for him, cloaked in shadows, and he didn't look happy, not one little bit. So what else was new? In fact, he might look angrier than usual now that he thought about it.

"You're in a bad mood at the hotel, so you decide to follow me and make sure you keep _me_ mad too?" Michael sighed, approaching his bike. The air smelled odd...like terminal B.O…"was someone else with you?" He glanced around warily.

"Those idiot brothers were spying, they know what you are." He said, examining his claws, "You don't leave without saying something." He said calmly.

"Didn't think you'd want to be bothered," Michael replied slowly, taking in David's demeanor. Yeah, he _looked_ calm, but he definitely didn't...feel like it.

"Yes, I want to be bothered. I need to be bothered." He growled, "If I don't know where you are I'm going to assume you're doing something stupid."

He drew back from his bike, tensing his shoulders and keeping his eyes focused on the road nearby, pointedly avoiding even looking at David, "so I'm an idiot then. If I go somewhere, I'm just going out to do something stupid."

David strode forward, stopping inches from him, "Don't even start." He hissed, "You don't want to go there." He paused briefly, "Let's go back." His tone left no room for argument. Which only ticked Michael off even more. All night from the hotel to the house, he'd been pretty much treated like shit or harassed by everyone. So, while David prepared to take flight, Michael lingered beside his bike.

Of course David wasn't about to move until he did, he didn't want to be disobeyed and he didn't want to be pushed, "Whenever you're ready, Michael." He growled softly.

"Maybe I'm not," Michael crossed his arms and leaned back casually. "Gimme a minute." David wasn't the only one who could be an asshole. "Go on without me if you're in a rush. I'll catch up."

David waited not so patiently, watching and waiting, "Do you really want to challenge me tonight?"

"Challenging?" Michael uncrossed his arms, feigning surprise, "I'm just relaxing for a bit. That's all. You should try it sometime. Might help that stick fall out of your ass."

Michael didn't even have a chance to blink before David was on him, his teeth and claws dug in deep as he pinned him to the ground, snarling angrily. He bit back a howl of pain, not really too keen on the idea of having an audience, as much as it fucking hurt.

" _Fuck!"_ He mentally cursed, scrabbling at the grass, only to feel the fangs tear deeper into his neck, and the claws carving stripes into his shoulders. Growling, Michael gave a few more faint attempts to shrug David off, before he finally settled down, silently fuming. This literally and figuratively sucked.

"Get off already, damn it, I'll go home," he hissed.

David growled into his skin, licking up the blood, before slowly crawling off him, "Good." He licked his lips, "Let's go."

Michael rubbed at his neck, giving a sharp intake of breath when he pulled his hand back. It stung, and even though the blood had been cleaned up, and it was only oozing slightly now...the healing was slow. He couldn't even detect the numbing feeling of the skin knitting back together. He glared at David as he climbed on his bike, " _what gives?"_

" _I'll explain at home, for now, get back there."_ He ordered shortly.

This wasn't over by a long shot. Out of the corner of his eye, Michael caught sight of the Frog brothers huddled on the ground together and weeping. He ignored them in favor of kicking his bike into gear. Maybe the ride would calm him down. Maybe not.

* * *

"Alan," Edgar whispered, gripping his brother's shoulders, "what do you think he meant, huh? Why'd he let us live!?" Not that he was complaining. But the taunt about head games...definitely didn't seem like it was much better.


	10. Chapter 10

David strode into the room as if he owned the place, well, really, he did, this was _his_ domain after all. Immediately he went to his chair, settling down in it, eyes narrowed as Michael came inside. He looked at Dwayne, "Every year we go into a kind of...rut, I guess you could call it. Tempers are high, we're more in tune with each other, and we have certain instincts that demand our attention."

Michael's collar was pulled up, covering his neck. He sat down on the arm of the couch furthest from David, listening quietly. He'd calmed down a little, enough to at least not bother snapping again. Clearly it wasn't going to end up in his favor.

Paul peered into an empty beer bottle and tossed it into one of the flaming oil barrels, smiling when he heard the satisfying shatter of glass and screaming droplets evaporating in the fire. "Sucks, man. A lot."

"So why'd you get so pissed off when you left earlier?" Michael sighed, referring to the incident that set off the whole chain of events leaving him with a nasty hole in his neck. The skin had closed up now, but every time he reached up to rub at what should be smooth and pristine, he only found the rigid bumps of scar tissue. It wasn't going away.

"Because you left." He stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "You left, you can't just do that. I can't know what happened, I can't be everywhere at once, and I can't protect our territory if I'm looking for you."

"... _before_ that, D...avid," he caught himself just in time from voicing his insult. "You were pissed off before that."

"Because there's something...wrong." He didn't want to get into the real reason, didn't want to explain how he wanted to pin Michael down. Seeing those bodies on the beach started it, but coming back to the hotel made it worse. Someone was moving into their territory, and it set them all off much sooner than they should be.

"Corpses on the beach," Marko volunteered cheekily, not really giving much of a damn whether David wanted to employ a bit of tact or not. "Drained...cut up...and we're not the ones who ate them."

"I don't _like_ when someone invades our territory, no one has the right to do that."

Michael eased down onto one of the couch cushions, drawing a leg up as he relaxed a bit more, "what're we gonna do?"

"Find them," Dwayne replied simply.

"Could be just one," Paul suggested, digging through a pile of scrap clothes for a lighter, catching a finger on the edge of a broken bottle and immediately sticking it into his mouth.

"What's with the new look?" Marko hung over the back of the couch, examining Michael's collar with a _very_ smug look plastered on his face.

"...Fuck off," Michael reached back to shove a hand in his face.

David looked slightly smug, "None of your business, Marko, just keep your hands to yourself." He glanced at Dwayne, " _Did you tell them?"_

Dwayne smirked, tucking a joint into his mouth, " _figured actions speak louder than words. Can't get anything through to them if you try talking anyway. Just makes Paul do the opposite."_ Plus, he clearly wanted a show in the future, the voyeuristic son of a bitch. He wasn't _always_ the responsible one. Especially not at the moment.

David glared at him, he was right though, no matter how much he wanted to deny it.

"Don't be stupid, Marko." Paul said absently, picking at a string on the couch.

"What'd I do?" Marko demanded, snapping at Michael's hand before he yanked it away and glared over at the smaller vampire.

"Nothing, yet, but you're gonna, I know you, you're gonna do something stupid." He mumbled.

"We need to start looking." David narrowed his eyes, "Find those assholes that are in _my_ territory." His fingers twitched, he wanted to do something, _needed_ to do something but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

* * *

Now that Sam had some time to heal downstairs, and think, and talk himself out of burning a potato sack of dog crap on the Frog brothers lawn every morning for the rest of their lives, he resolved to give them back their comics and be done with them once and for all. Whether his brother had really gone off the deep end and started a part-time hobby of breaking and entering, or he was telling the truth that he'd just bought them off of someone else who could've very likely been the actual thief...Sam preferred to believe the latter.

His brother had been acting like a total dick lately, but he was still Michael. Sam didn't know _what_ was wrong with him, but he erred on the optimistic side mom had decided to take after their unsuccessful attempt to get him to move back home last night, and chose to believe it was a phase. The Frog brothers, however, were _clearly_ not going through a phase at all. They were crazy.

Crazy or not, though, he would hate to think of losing his own favorite rare issues back home...so that's how he found himself hanging out at their front door Saturday afternoon, with the comics carelessly (and maybe passive aggressively) rolled up in one hand. They were going to talk this out, he was going to leave, and he'd never talk to them again. That would be that. If it wasn't, he'd break into _their_ house one of these days and pour some kind of gross chemical in their underwear drawers.

"Ed? Alan? Assholes, I know you're in there!" Sam banged on the door, thoroughly pissed off now all over again because he'd been baking in the sun for the last twenty minutes.

He wasn't greeted by either of his former fairweather vampire hunting friends, however, but a very blurry-eyed woman with a dreamy smile and enough flower power in her clothing to fuel a hippie van for years. Their mother. "Hi, little man...you here to see the boys?" she leaned back against the side of the door, yawning softly as she crossed her fluttering bell-sleeved arms.

Sam frowned nervously. Cussing Ed and Alan out was one thing...he'd been taught a little better not to do the same to a grown woman, "I...these comics...bringing them back…" he fumbled for words.

She took them absently, "They're down at the boardwalk I think." She shrugged, "I dunno where they ran off to."

Sam shook his head, "got stuff to do. Tell…" God, he hated to do this, but he really didn't want to see them at school again…"tell them to call me later. Sam."

She nodded, "Have a good afternoon, Tom."

"S-" He began, but the door was slammed in his face before he could finish, "-am…" He blinked several times, drawing back. Jeeze, their mom was just as bad as them…

* * *

His head felt light. Marko still couldn't get used to the new haircut he'd had to get just to even out his poor vanquished braids. That fucking prank had gone _way_ too far. Not to mention, he'd even been nice and offered him a fun romp in the sack. Marko hadn't been lying when he promised he'd get him back...and he'd been plotting it for the last three days, just waiting for the chance to carry it out.

Then, of course, they were all in pretty pissy moods right now, too. Going into their yearly 'season' early, and still having absolutely no fucking clue who the fuckers moving into their territory were, or even where...frankly, Marko needed a bit of stress relief.

The minute they hit the boards tonight, it was pretty clear tourist season had finally begun to die down a bit more. Slimmer pickings, then...which meant…

"I got Dwayne," Paul immediately volunteered. _Great_. They were pairing off for meals…

Marko bit the thumb of his glove, "I'll take Mikey for you, David."

Michael glanced over at him with a wary frown. David eyed him for a moment but Marko could tell their leader wanted a meal to himself.

"What's happening?" Michael looked around, "what are we doing?" This would be the first time he had to pair off for a meal. Marko held back a snicker. He didn't want to let on about even one bit of his plan, or it would fall apart.

"Pickings are slim, tourist season is ending so we have to share meals, cuts back on the attention we get." David said, still eyeing Marko, "Alright, Michael, go with Marko, I have a couple things I need to get done tonight, we'll meet back at home after we hunt."

The younger vampire nodded slowly, looking over at Marko. He didn't seem _too_ suspicious, which worked just fine for him. Oh...this was going to be epic…

* * *

It was a little weird, but a lot of things about being pack were weird. Michael was beginning to get used to going with the flow. Plus, after David tore the fuck out of his neck a few nights ago, he'd be glad for the distance. He didn't really understand _what,_ but _something_ had changed...he couldn't really define it. David was definitely paying more attention to him, and while Michael liked to imagine it was just paranoia that he'd ditch them again without a word, he wasn't entirely sure that had anything to do with it.

What's more, he also felt a little bit more compelled to be around their pack leader, and that really ticked him off. It was always easier to get mad than wallow in confusion. Especially now that he didn't really care about the consequences unless they affected _him._

"Who do you want to eat?" Michael asked Marko, nudging his shoulder as they parted ways in the crowd...and he pretended he couldn't still kind of feel David's eyes piercing the back of his skull. He _definitely_ pretended there wasn't a small part of him that maybe enjoyed the attention. Just a little.

Marko looked thoughtful, "Hmm, something young, maybe we can find someone that screams pretty."

He nodded, surveying their options. Most of them were unappealing. Old men. Nagging moms and bratty kids. The kinds of people you'd want to eat just to shut them up. He did notice a hooker or two, but the way they were standing in corners and hanging around certain shops with stares deader than most corpses he'd seen so far, he somehow doubted their blood would be too appetizing, or their screams too fun to listen to either.

"I'm not seeing anyone," Michael shook his head, "could maybe find a chick down at the burger shack, but it seems like a lot of trouble for a half-meal."

Marko shrugged, "Do you see anything you do like?"

He spent a couple of minutes debating before he settled on a girl emerging from a souvenir shop with a shark-shaped coffee mug and a pair of bright orange sunglasses. A little tacky, but she was attractive enough. "That one…" He nodded in her direction. "How do you want to do it?"

"Can either follow her and snag her or you go talk her up and bring her somewhere secluded. It's late enough, not many people are around. Should be easy."

Michael shrugged and headed towards his target. So he was expected to do all the work tonight? Fine. But he certainly wasn't letting Marko get the lion's share for it, either.

"Hey," he said as he drew near her, "you from around here? I heard there's a bonfire party tonight in Santa Carla, and I need directions…"

She smiled at him, "There is? Do you know where, I know the town pretty well."

He grinned, flashing her his pearly whites, "somewhere on the beach. That's all I know." He nodded back to Marko, "me and my friend have some bikes if you wanna go with us, see if we can find it together." He gave her a not-so-subtle once over, far more focused now on his easy meal than David.

She smelled nice. Living people always seemed to have a very pleasant scent. Well, the blood did. He didn't much care for the lingering aromas of where they'd been, what they ate, or the shit they piled on to cover it all up...perfume couldn't hide the blood, though...and God, her blood smelled good. It helped him seem more intent in his interest. More genuine. He'd given up on sex after the third try, too...but he could definitely appreciate the package his meal came in.

"Be glad to give you a lift," he added softly.

They didn't linger long in the bright lights of the boardwalk, or the safety of watching eyes. She only got scared long after she should have, when a mile or so down the stretch of sand and water, she realised there wasn't any bonfire at all.

He was right. The blood was incredible. Better, even, after two days without. Marko didn't even want any, and frankly Michael didn't care. He was glad to have her all to himself, crushing the girl's body to his chest and tearing hungrily at the flesh at her throat until it seemed any remnants of pink in the muscle had long gone.

Leaning back in the sand on his elbows, Michael kept an eye on the older vampire, "you're quiet tonight," he remarked.

"Just thinking." He replied, "Why don't you head home, go relax, I'll take care of the body."

He sat up, brushing grit and sticky clumps of bloody sand from his fingers, "I don't want to deal with David throwing a bitch fit again."

"I'll tell him you came back early. He can't be pissed if you're already there, right?"

Michael frowned, "...yeah…." There _was_ a six-pack waiting back at the hotel...and it'd be a good chance to try exploring the place and check out the parts he hadn't seen yet. "Alright. Sounds good," he nodded, standing up and shaking off his pant legs. "See ya later, then, Marko."

He trailed over to his bike, pausing to glance at Marko over his shoulder. Something was...off...he wasn't really sure _what,_ but he dismissed it as paranoia and headed back to the cave.

* * *

David stepped into the hotel, his hunt had gone well, he felt a little calmer, and his mood immediately soured. Marko was there, Paul, Dwayne, but no Michael.

"Where's Michael?" He narrowed his eyes at them.

Marko shrugged, examining his nails, "dunno. He fucked dinner and went off on his own before I could stop him. Probably somewhere in the back if he's even home...thought I smelled him earlier."

David growled softly, "He what?" He couldn't be serious, he had to be playing some sick game.

"Yeah, I know, didn't think he could do it...proved me wrong though. Had her _begging_ for the bite by the time he was done…" Marko went on, lowering his hand and giving David a very sincere frown. He paused, "he almost had a go after too…"

The snarl that curled his lips sent a chill through them all as he tipped his head back and closed his eyes, sniffing for Michael's scent before taking off deeper into the hotel.

Dwayne scowled at Marko once David was gone, "He didn't really do that, did he?"

"Fuck no," Marko laughed, just a little nervously. "That was just for what he did to my hair…"

David stalked through the tunnels, finally following the scent to its source. Without a word he pounced, grabbing Michael and flipping him over, clawed hands tugging at his shirt, snarling low in his throat.

Dwayne on the other hand took a moment to think about Marko's words before he was off like a shot after their leader. Nothing good would come of this.

"The fuck?!" Michael shouted, his hands clawing at the dirt beneath him as he tried to gain purchase beneath the bleach blonde to scramble away, eyes darting towards the can of beer spilled on the ground beside them with a deep sense of irritation and rage immediately replacing his confusion. Half of it was his own, too, and not communicative from David.

David snarled, pressing him down into the ground, "Is this how you fucked her?" His fingers reached for his pants, "Pinned her down and drank her?"

Michael stilled, " _what?!"_ He hadn't even _seen_ Star for over two months, let alone fucked her! "What the hell are you talking about?" He exhaled a harsh breath, very much on the verge of doing something he'd probably regret, but damn it, he wasn't just going to be David's punching bag whenever he got crazy.

Dwayne froze, taking in the sight of the pair before turning and walking away.

"Get off," Michael growled low, remaining motionless, despite his urge to reach down and try to keep his clothing intact. At this rate they'd be shredded soon.

David paused for a moment as Michael froze, taking it as the first step in submitting. Harsh fingers turned gentle, carefully prying his clothes off, careful not to tear them as long as Michael held still. Soft lips trailed over the skin along Michael's shoulders as it was revealed.

"Not gonna do anything you won't like." His tongue flicked out against the bite mark, "Gotta make sure everyone knows you're mine." He reached down, tugging his jeans down around his knees. He nuzzled against his throat, scent marking him like a cat, "I can smell her on you." He growled lowly, "But don't worry, you won't for long."

Michael gave an inward sigh, shifting a bit beneath him. He didn't know why David had suddenly flipped the crazy switch, but fighting him right now would only end up turning it back on. He turned his head to nip at David's chin as he pulled his head away, licking the spot immediately afterwards with a soft growl.

"Smell _who?"_ Clearly it wasn't Star he was talking about. He half-closed his eyes, biting back his irritation against the backdrop of David's less aggressive attentions.

Nails ran over his nipples, raked lightly down his chest as he pressed his half naked body against Michael's almost fully naked one. Gently he rocked against him, letting him feel how hard he was, "That girl you fucked." He growled in irritation, pressing his fingers against the pinned vampire's lips, "Suck."

"I didn't f-" he was cut off by the fingers being shoved in his mouth. Tempted to bite them, Michael huffed against David's hand, sucking on the fingers reluctantly. His stupid body didn't seem to get the message that he wasn't in the mood for this, because he could feel himself getting hard, too. Apparently anywhere he could get it would work.

The blonde retrieved his fingers, his hand moving back so he could press the slick digits against his hole. Pressing and rubbing before rolling them inside. He wasn't listening to Michael's complaints as he opened him up.

"I want you thinking only of me." He growled, pressing his lips to his ear, nipping and tugging at the lobe while his free hand circled around his cock, giving him a firm stroke.

Michael shivered, biting back a groan. He wasn't going to give David the satisfaction. The bastard. "Don't you think that's asking a lo-fuck! Not so hard!" He jerked under him, attempting to pull away.

Teeth clamped in warning on the back of his neck, threatening to bit if he struggled, pressing and twisting his fingers while stroking him. When he felt the other vampire was ready, he retrieved his fingers and gripped his hip instead to hold him steady as he pushed inside.

Lowering his forehead to the ground, Michael let out a harsh gasp, pressing back against him and moaning softly. He didn't even want to know what he looked like right now, shamelessly wanting to urge David on and fight him at the same time.

David rolled his hips forward, "There, good boy." He growled softly, keeping his pace slow and easy, stroking him in time with his thrusts, "Feels good, doesn't it, Michael." It was more a statement then a question.

" _You...are an asshole,"_ he grumbled wearily in David's mind, closing his eyes and losing himself in the moment. It felt incredible, but that didn't change the fact he'd preferred to at least have some say about being fucked, and the condescending remarks didn't help. He cried out after a particularly hard thrust, rolling his own hips forward in time and reaching down to try to speed up David's stroking.

David's free hand grabbed his wrist, pushing it down, before speeding up his hands and his hips. His lips and tongue licked and kissed at the bite mark he had left. So much more than just a mark, but a brand. A symbol. No one else would ever have him after tonight. _No one._ Just the thought was enough to make him want to dig his fangs in again and tear it open but he refrained, as much as he would love to he wanted Michael to beg for the bite. He gave him a flick and twist of his wrist.

"Let go, Michael." He snapped his hips in hard.

Michael yelped, raising his head slightly as their tempo picked up to a speed he could barely reach; every time David moved inside him nearly made the younger vampire see stars, until he was very nearly howling out his release as he pressed himself forward in David's hand. David followed soon after, his hips giving a final push as he shuddered against him, biting the mark with blunt, human teeth as he groaned against his skin.

Relaxing on the ground, Michael shifted, growing slightly lethargic as they settled down together. He rolled onto his back once David pulled out and leaned back against his elbows, watching the older vampire quietly through half-lidded eyes.

David stretched slowly, groaning softly in contentment, sure of his claim on Michael now, "Mmmm." He glanced at Michael, watching him to see what he would do.

"..You owe me a beer," Michael sighed, running a hand through his hair and scratching the back of his head while he yawned.

David chuckled softly, "Sure, want a six pack?" He seemed much more amiable now, relaxed.

"...I think I deserve a twelve pack," he drawled, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. "Mind telling me what that was all about?"

"You were missing when I got back, Marko said you fucked your dinner and ran off." He said, closing his eyes slowly.

Michael snorted, "I'm going to kick that lying little imp's ass…like I've even gotten to second base without losing it...you seriously believed that?" It was over and done with now. Honestly, he was a little relieved David had a reason and hadn't just gone off the deep end for the sake of a good screw.

He shrugged, "Had to at the time, kind of wound up if you haven't noticed."

Michael cracked open an eye and looked at him thoughtfully, "gonna give me a warning next time, then?"

"A warning that I'm going to pound you into the ground? Yes." He smirked at him.

"You…" He was honestly at a loss for words...so instead, Michael just laid back and turned away from him to grab his jeans, intent on getting some space between them for the sake of his mental well being. An ego that big could be contagious...possibly terminal.

David reached out and pulled him close, "Who said you could go anywhere?"

Michael rolled his eyes and let his jeans fall to the ground, "what, are you gonna put me on a leash next?" He paused, turning his head so he could look over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of David's smug face, "...don't answer that. And if you do, I'll strangle you with it." He was only half-joking.

"I think you'd look good in black leather. Wrapped around your throat…" He licked his lips. Michael growled back at him, nipping at David's bottom lip and licking at the blood that welled up there.

"Ass," he retorted, settling back against David and closing his eyes. Rock and torn carpet weren't really the best things to sleep on, but it could be worse. It could've been Paul who pinned him, though not likely at all, and the thought was enough make him want to gag a little. If _David_ was smug about it, there was no telling how Paul would have acted…

"Fuck, I'm glad I can't have nightmares…" He mumbled aloud, wrinkling his nose.

"What're you thinking about?" He questioned, nuzzling him and closing his eyes, holding him close.

"You don't wanna know," he yawned, laying an arm over the one wrapped around his chest and falling asleep.

David grumbled softly before nuzzling into his shoulder and falling asleep with him.


	11. Chapter 11

She could still hear his screams bouncing in the back of her skull, and images of her brother tearing into his victim remained in her mind's eye to torture her each passing day Alice spent in the 'isolation room', all because she didn't want to do it. Couldn't do it. Couldn't drink. Couldn't kill.

Ryan's choice was to do it or they'd both die. So he did. And now she was alone, and she couldn't keep count of the days or nights stuck in her cold little cell, pleading with the phantom hands that would push food through the bottom of her door every morning (or evening, she didn't know.) Telling them she'd do it this time, she'd do what they wanted, what the 'family' wanted, if they'd just let her out...let her have even the tiniest glimpse of light in the dark.

Nobody listened, nobody heard her, and not for the first time she wished she'd told that lady at the grocery store all about these monsters parading as friends to runaways, inducting them into murder and torture, for reasons she still couldn't begin to understand. They were evil...and now her brother was just like them.

"Please!" She scratched at the door, "I'll do it, please just let me out…"

She wept, then finally...saw light.

* * *

Alan and Edgar sat huddled around a piece of paper. Crosses and strings of garlic covered their room, sure the smell sucked but they'd rather be alive than dead. In front of them was a crude map of Santa Carla. A few places were already checked off in their search for the vampires that haunted the town.

"Boys," their mother swanned into the living room, carrying a string of garlic at a distance with slightly less-dazed expression than usual, "like, I don't want to harsh your vibes...but garlic with the laundry is waaaaaaay harsh," she vaguely scolded them, tossing the string of garlic to the ground. "I'm all for earth-friendly solutions, man, but, like...not cool."

They looked up at her but it was Edgar who spoke, "We're trying to save the town from the evil undead! Sacrifices must be made!"

She stared at her slightly older son for a very long and very silent moment, "Eddie...you _know_ those brownies were for, like, your dad's headaches…" Then she seemed to take in the living room for the first time, as if she'd never seen it before, "did you redecorate?" She glanced over at the boards nailed to the living room windows. Her thoughts, ever flighty, didn't seem to linger very long.

Alan nodded, "Yeah, like it?" It was better to go along with it sometimes.

She smiled and began to hum a Grateful Dead tune, then swanned out of the room without an answer.

Ed looked over at his brother, and then back at the doorway, "probably better to barricade their room when the vamps come to get us…" he glanced back down at their notes, and then over at the rolled-up comics Sam had brought over earlier. Mom hadn't mentioned it, but they couldn't have just appeared on the couch out of thin air. "You think Sam figured it out? Wants our help?"

Alan shrugged, "I dunno, maybe, he's just...it's not fair."

They both remembered all too well the promise that crazy blonde freak had made when he caught them keeping guard on Sam's house. He wasn't going to kill them yet. He was going to 'bat them around until they stopped squeaking'...whatever the hell that even meant...then said something about head games and Ed was beginning to seriously doubt it had anything to do with Foreigner.

"...You wanna call him?" Edgar grunted, staring down at their plans and picking up a pencil to draw an extra cross in the corner. "Let's check that bikini shop, too…"

He nodded in response, "Yeah, good place to start tonight." Alan agreed softly.

Ed cleared his throat, "maybe you should do the talking…" he looked over at the phone propped up on the side of the couch, dangling from the cradle so they couldn't get any incoming calls while their dad was sleeping. "Old man might still be sore at me if he's the one who picks up first."

Alan scowled, shaking his head, "I don't wanna call, you call, just hope he doesn't answer, if he does I'll take the phone, how's that?"

"Wait…" Ed rolled up the paper, "maybe it'll be better if we talk to him at school...out in the open. In the daylight…" They'd have to be smart about it, though. Get Sam somewhere nobody could hear them talk. The bathroom could work again, but he wasn't too sure Sam would be hot on the idea after last time.

He nodded, "Yeah, I like that better. Let's just go check out the bikini store, that's better."

* * *

Half past midnight, and no sign of the sandman. So grandpa decided to get a bit of work in and down a root beer instead of trying to catch the sleep that wouldn't come. The house was about as dead and quiet as it had been before the family moved in. Plenty of time to find himself stuck in his head while he strung wired body parts in natural and unnatural poses. Plenty of time to think about Michael.

He wanted to be wrong about the boy. Hell, he'd be happy to find out he just had some kind of bug in his brain if it explained all the weird things he did when he came over, and that eerily empty look in his eyes, like he was just waiting for something nasty to happen, could very well be the cause of it in the near future, too. That wasn't a look the old man was unfamiliar with.

God, how he wanted to be wrong. He'd seen that look before, seen the calculating intelligence that all predators seemed to have, the look in their eye that said, 'I can and likely will eat you'. _If_ Michael was something else, if something had happened, what was it? Who was responsible? He had seemed depressed, off, but now, well, a change like that didn't just _happen_ , it was done to you.

Combine that with those boys who'd snuck into the house the other day, and he wondered if maybe there was some kind of missing puzzle piece there, or they just happened to be stumbling close to the facts without really knowing them. He also wondered if he'd even have the heart to do what _needed_ to be done to make sure Sam and Lucy were kept safe.

He sighed, setting a piece of pliers aside and taking a gulp of root beer. Maybe he was wrong. He _could_ be wrong. Not likely, but...well...maybe. He still hadn't really proved to himself what Michael was, vampire, or just a human boy who'd seen too much and started to crack. He hadn't been around enough for the old man to figure it out for sure.

Kinda hard to do when you know calling someone out like that could very well get you killed. After all, if Michael _was_ one, and just playing some kinda funny game...you never knew with those things...the second he made it plain...what reason would the kid have not to eat them anymore? The game would be over. There'd be nothing left for him to find amusing.

Plus...staking your own grandson...soulless little bastard or not...that was a lot easier said than done. He would have to be very careful. He took another drink. If he wasn't, it wouldn't just be him that paid, Lucy and Sam would too.

If there was one thing about living in Santa Carla he never could stomach…

* * *

Paul stared at his joint, glaring at the smoke slowly wafting out from the end. Clearly it wasn't doing anything for his mood tonight. He glanced over at Marko as he tucked it between his lips, "you're kinda jumpy," he remarked, noticing the way the smaller vampire seemed to be unable to decide where he wanted to sit or stand. They were the first two up tonight. Dwayne went out to grab some tail. Or a meal. Probably both. He didn't tend to cope with this time of the year very well.

"Huh? I'm good." Marko's eyes darted around, looking for something, or someone.

"I think this shit is oregano…" Paul frowned, taking another pull. He wasn't feeling anything. Not even a little. "Gonna kill that guy…"

"Food sounds good, could eat, let's go eat, alright Paulie?"

He jerked up, lowering the joint and staring at Marko as if he'd just noticed him there for the first time, even though they'd just been talking, "you're already hungry?" He paused, "oooooooh, 'cause you didn't eat _last night_?"

"Right! I didn't eat, I'm hungry, come on, let's go."

He leered at Marko, "how bout a quick f-"

That, of course, was when Michael finally made his appearance, only slightly rumpled and looking very relaxed as he floated into the lobby and flopped down at the opposite end of the couch from Paul. David followed, not long after.

"Evening, starshine," Paul smirked, flicking his half-finished joint to the ground and glancing over at David, "you're up late." Not that they hadn't _heard_ what happened halfway across the damn hotel the previous night.

"Mmm, was a good night." David responded, "Very relaxing."

Michael remained silent, leaning over the arm of the couch with his chin propped up on his hand, watching Marko with a subtle smirk on his face. He was planning something. Paul raised an eyebrow and glanced over at Marko as well, curious as to what was about to go down. They hadn't had a good fight in a while...that was always fun.

Marko glanced at Michael, "Good sleep, Mikey?" He was trying to be as normal as possible, not let anyone know he was a little scared.

"I slept okay," he replied coolly, letting his hand drop to the side, "how about _you?_ " Was there a subtle threat in the question? A promise? Paul couldn't really tell...he hadn't known Michael long enough to know for certain. He glanced over at David to gauge their leader's reaction.

David raised an eyebrow, "Yeah, Marko, how'd you sleep?"

Marko rubbed the back of his neck, "Fine, fine, little hungry...was gonna go grab a bite…" He cocked his thumb towards the exit.

"Have fun with that," Michael remarked dryly, looking away from him and towards a few of the pigeons hopping about on the ground as if they were suddenly the most fascinating creatures in the world. "Maybe you'll find a bit more fun out there, huh? I know you're pretty hard up, Marko...after you made a pass at me the other night."

Marko froze and David's eyes flashed, "Oh, Marko," his voice was like ice, "what made you think that was a good idea?" He shook his head, getting to his feet, "Really, Marko." He slowly approached him. He glanced at Michael, "How, exactly, did he proposition you, Michael?

"That's a good question," Michael glanced back over at him. "What was it you said? You found a couple of things you wanted...something you still want?" He scratched at his cheek idly, "yeah...I think that's what he said, isn't it, Paul?" He glanced over at Paul, who suddenly realized those pigeons over there really _were_ super fucking interesting.

Paul looked away, "Hey, not getting into this, you guys can just keep talkin', I don't know nothin'."

Michael stood up from the couch, "hey, Paul...I saw some pretty cool rooms back there. Anything worth checking out?" He didn't look like he planned on sticking around for this, which wasn't a bad idea.

He nodded, "Yeah, yeah, want me to show you?" He questioned, quickly getting to his feet, skirting the outside of the room as David stalked toward Marko. Michael was soon at his heels. The smaller vampire, who had been trying to edge towards the exit, was not going to get away very easily.

Marko winced, pressing himself back against the wall and tilting his head to the side, "it was just a joke, man."

He raised an eyebrow, crowding him closer to the wall, "Oh? A joke?" He let out a snarl, his claws going into the wall on either side of his head, "I've been too lenient with you. Haven't shown you the consequences, haven't laid down the rules. Well, that changes now."

Closing his eyes, Marko tried to sink down a little and shrink away from David, "I didn't do anything...was just kidding around…"

"Michael is _mine_." He growled, pushing back and looking down at him, "Stay." He ordered, turning and going to get the bullwhip, "I picked something up from Max." He pulled it out from behind his chair before turning and moving back toward Marko.

Cracking open an eye, Marko paled considerably when his eyes settled on _it._ Fuck, he remembered that thing...had been acquainted with it on more than one occasion when he or Paul pushed a joke a little too far and ruined some stupid fucking plan Max had for his business or potential toys…

"C'mon, Davey…" he pleaded, "I get it, I get it...he's yours, I'm sorry, okay?" He appealed to his pack leader's human-...well, _shit_ , he knew he wasn't getting out of this one.

He let it uncoil, dragging it across the ground, "Might want to get your jacket off, don't wanna ruin it, do you?"

"...No," he kept his head tilted submissively, peeling off his jacket. Better to just get it over with. Damn it, how was he going to get Michael back for _this_ one?

"Oh, and Marko?" He paused, swishing the whip back and forth, "This little prank war, ends now."

* * *

"So, what was with those crazy dudes at lunch today?" Jake asked over the phone, and Sam could hear Motley Crue blaring out of his bedroom radio over the receiver.

Sam shrugged before remembering he was on the phone, "No idea, trying to avoid them, they just won't leave me alone." He paused for a moment, "Maybe I could get my brother to scare them."

"Kinda funny, them thinking your brother's a vampire...how _old_ are they? Seriously?" Jake laughed. "They're a joke, dude."

He laughed with him, "I know, right?" Sure, he knew they were real but being normal...he wanted that. He couldn't help Ed and Alan. They had serious issues that went beyond anything any normal teenage boy could handle, whether they'd fended off a pack of blood-thirsty monsters over the summer or not. Plus, calling Mike a vampire again just because he was acting like a royal douche...that was just going too far.

"So, you going to go with us this weekend?" Jake went on, changing the subject.

"Going where?" He scowled slightly, "You still haven't told me what it's about."

"It's this youth group thing...I don't know, man, they were passing out fliers by the carousel last Friday. There's gonna be free pizza, plenty of chicks...better than spending Saturday night at the library. C'mon...let's do something fun."

"Alright, sure, I'm in."

"Cool! Alex is gonna be there too, man…" He urged, snickering. Not that anyone had probably missed all the meaningful looks she kept sending Sam across the table whenever they hung out. She wasn't subtle.

Good thing his friend couldn't see him, he was blushing, "Shut up, man." He grumbled.


	12. Chapter 12

"Feels good, doesn't it, Alice? Listening? Belonging?" The woman knelt over Alice, combing through her hair while she sat and waited for them to bring 'it' out...the punch bowl...she'd just drink a cup of it, like Ryan had. Then she'd...then she'd kill.

They'd let her sleep in a nice bed today, fed her well, treated her like she'd never done anything wrong, and they were all the family they'd promised they would be. She even got to talk to Ryan…

Maybe this wouldn't be so hard if he wasn't so...different. It was like every little thing she'd try to say tonight was an annoyance, every little inside joke she tried to bring up or memory she tried to pull out and soften him with was just that. A memory. Nothing special.

"Don't worry about it, Alice. After this is over, you'll be my sister again. It'll all be better."

That's what he'd told her. She'd be his sister 'again', as if the cardinal sin had been committed by _her,_ as if killing someone wasn't horrible or unthinkable, but a fact of life. Even a...bonding activity...something fun, harmless…

She wasn't sure if she'd be less reluctant to do this now if they'd just kept Ryan away from her. She didn't know if she really wanted her brother back, if having him meant changing, murdering…

"Alice?" A hand gripped her shoulder as the woman, 'auntie' as she liked to be called, set the brush aside on a small table nearby, pulling her hair back and brushing cold fingers over her cheek. It took every bit of strength she had not to shiver in disgust. "Are you ready?"

She stared ahead of her at the door...any second now, it would open...they'd bring the punch in...then they'd probably bring the victim…

"...I don't…" She took a deep breath, closing her eyes, "I don't think I can do this tonight after all...I need a little more time…" Maybe time enough to figure out a way to escape. To get help.

Ryan rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest, "There is no more time, Alice. It's now or…" He shrugged, "We gotta do what we gotta do."

She turned to look at her brother. The only other one in the room. They had a thing about privacy at this place...all the meetings, all the one-on-ones, the ceremonies...she'd been astonished they even let him in the room to watch this. "I can't do it, Ryan," she repeated, drawing her knees up and flinching when she felt Auntie's nails dig into her shoulder, this time harsher.

He crouched down in front of her, catching her chin and holding her gaze, "If you don't feed, if you don't kill, I'm going to eat you." He said calmly.

She stared back at him, and her eyes hurt too much from all the days of crying in the dark, she didn't have the strength to do it anymore. She didn't see anything good in the look he gave her. Nothing she recognized, and nothing she wanted to share. Reflected back at her was the thing she'd be if she...if she fed…

"Good-bye, Ryan," she said softly. Still couldn't make herself hate her brother, even if that's just not who he was anymore. A small part of her hoped he'd turn back, or there'd be some kind of spark she'd missed...a tender touch, or that same exasperated smile he'd always give her when she ticked him off just enough to make him want to hit her. "...I love you."

He let out a heavy sigh, stroking through her hair gently, like he used to, "I'm sorry it had to be this way but you aren't really leaving me with a choice." He pulled her into a hug, kissing the top of her head and for a moment she could almost pretend that this was her brother, "Why couldn't you just do it?" He asked softly.

"Because it's not right," she sobbed, her chest aching dully, "and if you were still in your right mind, you'd remember that."

"You wanna know what I remember? That I was weak." He sank sharp fangs into her throat, driving them in deep. Through the haze as she began to see spots in front of her, she heard laughter, she heard clapping, and she heard her own heart breaking before it shuddered and stopped beating altogether.

* * *

"Wow, honey, you got some strange skin…" the artist whistled, lifting away from the table and examining Dwayne's back, "almost like it doesn't want to take the ink. It's eating it all up," she laughed, and it was a little too high to be just from amusement. She was scared. She also clearly regretted locking up shop just for a little fun with this one very disturbing customer.

"Y...you part sponge?" She asked, standing up from her stool and slowly backing away as she set her gun aside.

He stretched, getting to his feet and walking towards her, "Nah." He flashed golden eyes and fangs, "Just hungry."

Sometimes it was fun to break their little rule about the locals. As long as they didn't do it too often, made for some great headlines. Plus, he really liked that chick's vest. She looked like she'd nicked it off an ex, so it was just the right fit...a nice souvenir, too and to top it all off she tasted great. Too bad they broke so easily, or he might have had a little bit more fun with her.

"Hey, Rosy close up early tonight?" A guy leaned against the side of the building as Dwayne stepped outside, taking in his appearance and zoning in on the vest with a suspicious frown while he tapped his cigarette on the brick siding.

Dwayne leered at him, "She's taking a nap, I wouldn't wait up."

He cussed, throwing his cigarette to the ground, "that fucking lying bitch…" he punched the wall and stomped off towards his cadillac. "Vows, my ass…" he mumbled under his breath, prying a ring off of his finger.

His good deed done for the night, Dwayne very nearly decided to hit the boards and have a little bit more solo fun, but halfway back to his bike, he caught a whiff of blood and something else blowing in on the coastal wind...

* * *

Marko lay over the couch on his side, flinching as he tried to shift a little without pulling at the skin on his back to take the proffered wrist from David, digging his fangs in and taking several gulps to ease some of the pain from the healing strips of bloodied wounds.

Paul and Michael were sitting on the edge of the fountain playing cards, every so often Michael would look up from his hand and watch the pair curiously while Marko fed. He frowned slightly, glancing back down at his cards and sorting through them.

" _What're you thinking about Michael?"_ David's voice rang out in his head.

" _I think Paul is cheating,"_ he replied unconvincingly, though it was pretty obvious the rocker did have a few cards tucked under his cuff. That had nothing to do with his somewhat bad mood.

Marko pulled away from David's wrist, licking up a few stray droplets of blood and settling his cheek on the arm of the couch. The cuts weren't going to go away instantaneously. They were pretty deep. He'd be stuck there for pretty much the rest of the night, but he was at least a little grateful for the blood. Max would have just left him on the ground to 'think about what he did'.

" _He always cheats."_ David chuckled softly, " _That's not what's on your mind though."_

He was just about to say something when a sudden change in the air set them all on edge, and Marko in particular, as vulnerable as he was right now...someone was there...and he wasn't human…

David growled lowly, getting to his feet and moving in front of his pack, eyes narrowed at the entrance, "Show yourself." He snarled.

A scrawny-looking kid, maybe about 15...ish...when he'd turned, at least...stumbled into the hotel and nearly slipped on the steps, his heel catching on a small, sticky puddle of unidentified mess from some shit Paul had been drinking.

Dwayne followed soon after, nodding over at David, " _found the fuck dumping bodies on our beach_."

David moved forward, grabbing the kid by the back of his neck, "So, you think you can just come into _my_ city and get away with it?" He flung his arms out, hissing and spitting as he tried to dislodge David's hand from his neck, clearly too much in fight or flight mode to talk. His effort...was beyond pathetic. The bleach blonde rolled his eyes, giving him a shake, "Come now, tell me, where're you from?"

"We are yesterday, now, and forever!" He spat out, trying to pry David's fingers from his neck.

" _Didn't get a lot out of him. The guy is nuts…"_ Dwayne shook his head, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall near the entrance.

Paul lowered his hand and perked up, glancing over at the guy, "hey, he got any good shit in his pockets? Sounds like he's on something fun…"

"The family will find me! The family will reap our rewards!" He went on, kicking his feet out and grunting.

"The family? What kind of shit are you on, kid?"

"There are dozens of us," he laughed, a high and unbelievably obnoxious sound that reverberated across the lobby so heinously that even the pigeons fluttered with indignance. "The family grows, and I am a son of the future!"

 _Dozens._ Fuck. No wonder he wasn't all there, that many minds in one was sure to fuck things up. Hell, you got a pack past eight, and you started to have issues even hearing yourself think.

"Can someone _please_ shut him up?" Marko groaned, burying his face in the arm of the couch. With the rest of them there, and seeing how absolutely insane and unintimidating the little bastard was, he didn't have any reason to stay on guard and _not_ mope.

"Shut up, Marko, we have to try to find something out." He just wasn't sure how…

Michael tossed his cards aside and looked up at them, "how long have you been in the family?" He asked quietly, propping a knee up over the side of the fountain.

"Since the beginning," he replied, letting his legs rest and slumping under David's grip like a two-year-old who didn't feel like standing anymore when they were still expected to. "Father brought us all in, taught us the future...gave us the truth…"

"Sounds like a cul-...Paul, I _saw_ that…" Michael punched Paul's shoulder, growling as he yanked a couple of cards from his sleeve and dropped them on the ground. "You dick...I knew you were cheating…"

David looked thoughtful, ignoring the pair playing cards, "Maybe I can cut him off…" He looked down at the kid, "Let's do a little experiment, how's that sound?"

He immediately quieted down. The icy tone in David's voice was enough to eliminate the fake sense of power their little intruder seemed to think he had.

"Was thinking that I could start bleeding you or maybe giving you my blood and seeing what happens." David chuckled, licking his lips, "Could make some damn fine blood wine."

"W...wha...what's _that?_ " He whimpered, forming what could very well be the most comprehensible sentence he'd uttered so far.

"Well, so you can speak. Blood wine, best tasting stuff, better than human but not as filling. Can give you a little taste of what it's like." He bit into his wrist and forced the wound to the kid's lips. There wasn't even a struggle. Didn't seem like the kid had been eating much, either, the way he attacked David's wrist like a lifeline.

Only a few ravenous gulps and he was lying flat on his back, pupils dilated, halfway to the moon and beyond senseless as he started mumbling bullshit about the future again, some kind of father, and a warehouse that could be in Santa Carla or Canada, for all the sense he was making.

The blood, after all, wasn't diluted with wine. He was getting a concentrated hit straight from the source of a head vampire in someone else's line. His mind, already weakened by the presence of a dozen others, didn't seem to cope very well.

David crouched down over him, "Hey, you wanna go back to your 'family', right?" He asked softly, "Let me take you home safe and sound, just tell me where it is."

He blinked up at David several times, eyes filled with distant madness and a smile to match; there was silence for a stretch of at least two minutes before he was even able to form words, "it's everywhere...and _nowhere_ …"

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Marko shouted, snatching up a pillow beneath him and throwing it at the nutjob, screaming in pain and frustration at the same time. They weren't going to get _anything_ out of him. Dwayne might as well have just killed him and left his corpse to the sun, for all the good it did them.

Paul jumped up, scrambling towards the couch and kneeling beside him, "chill out, man, you're ripping them open again," he poked one of the bleeding strips of skin and brought his finger to his lips, lapping it up. Marko hissed back at him and would have lashed out, but Paul was right. He really didn't want to make the wounds even worse.

" _Just kill him already. He's giving me a headache_ ," Marko grumbled in their minds, too exhausted to speak aloud, while batting away Paul's hand when he reached down to dab at even more blood. Concerned and opportunistic at the same time, the doped-up fuck.

When he felt a tongue on his back, he was very much on the verge of tearing his wounds open even wider so he could give even bigger ones to Paul, but then there was a wrist in front of his mouth, and he gladly bit into it. The worst of them had healed, but he wouldn't be able to sleep with the others tonight if he didn't drink more, and right now David was otherwise occupied.

"We're filling the world," the idiot on the ground began talking again, "city by city, state by state...soon we will be everywhere and nowhere...everywhere and nowhere...can you imagine? A thousand...a hundred thousand minds linked together, sharing and knowing everything, a hive...so much stronger than a human could ever be…"

Michael scooped up the abandoned cards and shuffled them together, snorting and shaking his head. This was getting crazier and crazier by the second. He couldn't wait to see what David would do...because right now...he looked like he was about ready to lose it.

David snarled, this was getting ridiculous., "I'm not gonna just kill him, I'm gonna send them all a message. They're all linked, great, they get to feel his pain and suffering before I finally tear his throat out!"

The others watched intently, the scent of mingled blood already on the air, their instinctual desire to destroy the intruder in their territory, and the general bad mood they'd all been in...were the perfect breeding ground for quite a nasty outcome to the mad thing on the ground, and all those he was connected to.

" _Make it a good one,"_ Dwayne smirked, his eyes flashing.

David wrapped his hand around his throat, golden eyes glaring down at him before slowly digging the claws of his free hand into his side, "Oh, I intend to." His smile was malicious as he carefully began to dismantle the vampire below him.

The high creature pinned below him screamed as David thrust his claws into his side, dragging them downward in shallow furrows. He wanted to draw this out, make him suffer before dealing the final blow. A soft hum escaped his throat, his claws shifting and traveling diagonally across his torso. Blood welled up, thick and red, filling the room with the scent of iron. He worked slowly, listening to the sounds of terror and pain, closing his eyes and letting go. The eyes came next, rolling across the ground with a sick thud. He had every intention of removing each piece of the kid before finally letting him die. He was, after all, far less fragile than a human. It took a bit more effort.

"Come on, say something, I want to hear you beg for mercy. I'm gonna count to five before I start removing other...things." David chuckled down at him, shifting his attention to his fingers, "One," he broke the first finger, "two," the next one came.

"Th…" He coughed, bloody foam seeping from the edges of his lips, "this...city...is _ours…_ "

He rolled his eyes, "No, it's _mine_!" He snapped the rest of his fingers before forcing his mouth open and tearing out his tongue, "If you can't say something nice, don't say it at all."

Paul snorted, " _really? You used that old line? Seriously, David?"_

David growled at him, "You wanna be next?" He asked, raising an eyebrow as he dug his claws very slowly into his throat.

He shook his head quickly, pulling his wrist back from Marko and licking at the wound as it healed, " _no, you're good...say all the stupid shit you want, don't mind me…"_

The fresh screams of the thrashing vampire on the ground, somewhat garbled as he coughed up his own blood and struggled to form anything else past the remaining fleshy stub at the back of his throat that had once been a tongue, drew their attention back to him. The sounds were, gradually, beginning to die down at last.

With a final tear, David ripped his throat out, dropping the flesh to the ground as he stood before taking a slow lick of the blood on his fingers, "We've drawn first blood."

As he turned to face the others, he was almost taken by surprise. He'd been so focused on the killing blow, he hadn't noticed Michael moving until he was practically a foot away. The brunette was silently watching him, shuffling the deck of worn cards in his hands.

" _David…"_ He leaned forward, tucking the cards in his pocket and gripping David by the back of the neck, then pulled him a little closer and kissed him harshly, tongue darting out to lick at the blood on his teeth, " _you wasted most of it."_ He growled, pulling away with a smirk and turning to walk back towards the fountain.

David stood there stunned, staring at Michael and licking his lips. Tonight was a good night.


	13. Chapter 13

"Just before sundown, gather at the corner of Market and Slaughter…" Sam repeated the direction on the flyer and slowly lowered it, surveying the small but mighty group of noisy teenagers who'd gathered together outside.

He turned around to say something to Jake, when he spotted two very familiar faces ducking in the crowd. Scowling, Sam forced himself to ignore them. "Jake, isn't that a little funny? 'Just before sundown'? No specific time?" This was weird. _Really_ weird. Like pulling out a mirror and hiding in the house until morning weird...but...well, the whole thing was new to Santa Carla. Maybe they just didn't have specific plans for a meeting time. Maybe they were trying to keep it informal to appeal to teens...maybe he was really digging for an explanation, or just thinking about it too much.

Jake shrugged, "Come on, let's just see, it'll be fun, at least it's something to do."

Alex walked up beside them, glancing around and manically popping her gum, "better than poems...ugh...why is she always assigning crap for us to read?" She complained, tucking her hands into her pockets and giving Sam a thin-lipped smile.

"I swear, she likes to torture us. Gets off on it." Jake rolled his eyes, sighing, "If someone doesn't show up, I'm leaving. This is getting boring."

It was as if that was some kind of code phrase for someone to show up. Bobbing at the head of the crowd, a guy maybe about Mike's age waved his arms in the air, before cupping them in front of his mouth, "we all here? You guys ready for some _fun?_ "

A collective cheer escaped their lips, "Finally!" Alex huffed, "Took long enough!"

Sam stayed quiet, hazarding one quick look over his shoulder, and not at all surprised to realize Edgar and Alan were both a little bit closer...shoving past a couple of people and ducking when they thought he wasn't able to see them. He looked back to the guy calling the shots and crossed his arms.

"Alright, we've got a bus waiting off at the end of Market. Renovations at the local place are still going down, but we've got a great center at Luna Bay, and we're looking for guys like you to test out the new arcade games we just shipped in!" He went on, drumming up even more excitement as he began to gesture for people to form into lines.

"Guys, nobody said...there's nothing on the flyer about a bus," Sam said, alarmed as he glanced back at the flimsy paper in his hand.

Jake and Alex looked at him, "Come on, Sam, it can't be that bad, let's go take a look, if it's shit, we'll leave." Jake said, "Live a little, man!"

His eyes darted about, counting the people around him. There were at least twenty. If anything was fishy about this, people would find out. Safety in numbers, right?

"I…" He could leave now and go home...but then...man, they probably wouldn't even sit at him with lunch anymore if he just chickened out because he didn't want to take an unplanned bus trip.

"Okay," Sam ran a hand through his hair. "Okay, I guess a look can't hurt...but when we get there, I'm gonna have to give my mom a call. I don't want her to freak out or anything. She's...been through a lot…" Probably best not to really explain exactly all she'd been through...or they'd think he was just as crazy as Ed and Alan.

* * *

The warehouse was, in a single word, paradise. Black lights, glowing stripes of neon paint, and the crowning jewel, arcade games. They lined the walls, there was everything they could ever want, a room full of entertainment. Best of all, people were just...walking up to the games...and playing. No quarters or tokens. No catch. Just having fun.

Then there were the others...just leaning along the walls and reclining on the ground together, leaning into each other and pressing their faces close without talking. Sometimes Sam thought he saw one or two playing some extreme P.D.A games, but he just kept his eyes averted and quickly walked by them, tugging on Alex and Jake's shirts to pull them ahead.

"This is too good to be true," he laughed, jogging up to a gleaming beacon near the corner of the huge building, "'Rampage'...you ever played that one?" He turned back to Jake and Alex, his smile open and tongue touching the roof of his mouth.

Jake shook his head, "Nah, man, never heard of it."

Alex popped her gum, looking around until her eyes settled on a table crowded with cokes and junk food, "you hungry, Jake?" She smiled at him secretively, and Sam felt the bottom fall out of his stomach…

She'd never been looking at Sam…

"You guys go on," he mumbled, turning back to the game and flipping through the characters on the screen. "I'm not that hungry...I'm...just gonna play a couple games and find a phone."

Jake scowled slightly, "Hey, man, you sure? Come on, join us."

He shook his head stubbornly, focusing on the screen, "you two...just go eat. I'll still be here when you're done." He'd had enough being a third wheel when Mike pulled babysitting gigs for mom back in Phoenix. Sam had seen enough necking and slobbery fondling to last a lifetime, thank you very much.

He shrugged, "Alright man, we'll catch up, alright?"

"Alright," Sam moped, glaring at the screen as he tried to attack a skyscraper with all of the budding impotent rage any normal hormonal teenage boy without a real outlet could muster...and when he lost, he barely even noticed the two other players stepping in beside him to take up the extra positions.

"We've got to talk," an irritatingly familiar voice grunted in his ear.

Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath, hammering angrily at the buttons in front of him and refusing to even look at them, "Mike didn't _steal_ your fucking comics. He just bought them off of the guy who probably did...so leave me alone and _stay away_ from my balls, guys."

Ed hammered away at the buttons beside him, "I can't speak for Alan, Sam, but I promise...I'm never going to do anything to your balls ever again. We're monster bashers...we stick together."

He let out a snort, "Really, you serious? You kick me in the balls and then say we stick together? I'm done, I'm not chasing monsters anymore, why can't you get it?"

"Your bro is a bloodsucking asshole now, Sam...a real one...no holds barred, he's killed...he kills...he's one of them...and they're _back!_ " Alan spoke up, leaning forward and violently hammering at his buttons so hard, he practically shook the machine.

Sam rolled his eyes, "He's not, what're you guys on? Come on, he's not a blood sucker."

"You're not listening!" Edgar snapped, "we met one of them. They're back, they got your brother, and they're gonna do something to us all, Sam, unless we figure out where they sleep and off em...and we gotta do it _right_ this time, or we're toast! Me, Alan, you, everybody...the whole damn city!"

"Course you call the shots on staking your brother, family and all…" Alan added quietly. "We won't do it for you unless you ask us to."

"I'm not staking my brother! He's not a fucking vampire! Really, what the hell is wrong with you?" He paused, "And who're you saying is back? This is a bunch of bullshit man."

"Those hair metal wannabe shit-suckers we thought we dusted a couple of months ag-" Edgar was cut off my a sudden shrill whistle echoing across the building. Then...the games shut off, and the black lights as well...until they were all bathed in darkness. A few girls screamed in surprise, and Sam wasn't exactly sure who was suddenly clinging to him until there were two of them.

* * *

Friday evening, they wasted no time leaving the hotel. They were all hungry and a little irritable but felt a million times better now that their rut was done and over with. Of course they still needed to pair off to go hunting and this time David was _not_ going to let anyone else go with Michael. There was, albeit unlikely, still a possibility that he'd take to one of his meals with more than just a feeding in mind.

"Michael, you're with me, the rest of you are together for the night." David spoke when they finally parked at the edge of the boardwalk.

Michael gave him a sidelong glance and shrugged, "are we hunting tonight, or…?" They'd had very little luck the past few days finding anything but the occasional scent that only led them to a dead end. For all intents and purposes, it was as if the vampires sneaking into their city had somehow...disappeared. Or maybe they got the message. It had been a pretty clear one. In Santa Carla...there was no vacancy.

Dwayne clapped Marko on the back, "c'mon," leaving Paul to his own devices. He was happy enough to go off in his own direction. Though, it wasn't unlikely he'd get himself into some kind of trouble while he was at it. He always did.

"Hunting, I don't know about you but I'm hungry. We can try to find signs of _them_ too, priority is food though."

"Sounds good," Michael nodded, smirking as he cast a look out across the crowd. " _What're you in the mood for tonight?"_ His eyes settled on a girl getting her ear pierced, stubbornly clinging to skimpy Summer clothes that left nothing to the imagination, when Fall was confidently in season now.

David followed his gaze, " _That looks about right."_ He smirked back in return before sauntering toward the girl, easily making his way through the crowd. He didn't speak until she was finished getting pierced and was on her feet, "You look cold."

She blinked back at him, smoothing her teased red hair over her shoulder to display her new piercing at its advantage, "a little," she admitted with a slow smile, taking in his appearance with a calculating look. There was a very clear reason why she wore so little this time of year. Up close, she had to be carrying the scent of at least three other men from that evening alone. If that weren't enough, she had several fading bruises around her collarbone and wrists where someone had probably gotten more than a little excited.

He slid his coat off, draping it around her shoulders, "Come on, let's get you somewhere a little warmer, alright?" He smiled at her, his most innocent, most angelic, most human of smiles. It was the best he could do, so he'd just have to make do.

She very eagerly went along with him, pressing her hands against her skirt pockets, very likely taking comfort in some sort of defense she'd probably stowed away for her line of work. By the time they were out on the dunes, however, they did her very little good. Bullets hurt like a fucking bitch, but that was the extent of their power against his kind.

Crouched across from David, Michael nursed at their victim's shredded wrist, eyeing him silently, his mouth and chin painted with blood. David took one last drink from her throat before pulling off and looking at Michael, licking his lips slowly.

Michael pulled away, dropping her arm to let it fall uselessly in the sand, before reaching up to rub at his face with the back of his hand, "my neck still hasn't healed," he mumbled, lowering his hand. "Why?" His hand moved to the scar in question, scratching at it idly. As his claws were still drawn, scratching too hard would only end up cutting it open.

"Because you're mine." He said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He snorted, "so you made it scar on purpose because you're an egomaniacal possessive fuck?" Michael asked dryly. There wasn't any heat behind the words, just a mild amusement. He paused thoughtfully, leaning back on his elbows in the sand, "what if I decided I was my own man, huh?"

David chuckled darkly, leaning forward and licking the blood from Michael's chin, "Oh? Well, little late for that."

Michael closed his eyes, "I could just leave when you're not looking. You wouldn't be able to stop me." He might have been joking, but he didn't have any doubt that he could if he wanted to. He pulled back slightly, opening his eyes and acting as if he was about to do just that.

David let out a soft growl in warning, "You won't get far."

He climbed to his feet, dusting the grit and sand from his jeans, "yeah? Why's that? I've got a bike. I'm sure I'd get pretty far before you even knew I was gone."

David was on him in a flash, kissing him hard and pinning him down into the sand, growling into his mouth, "No matter where you go, how far you get, I _will_ find you."

Michael shifted beneath him, nipping at David's chin, growling back at him as he moved his lips across his jawline to settle against his throat, " _is that a threat?"_

He continued to growl softly, his own lips moving to the bite on his throat, "It's a promise." He whispered against his skin, mouthing are the bite mark.

Michael's breath hitched in his throat as he pressed back up against him, bringing his hands up to David's back and running his claws along the fabric of his coat, just barely brushing his lips over his neck again and letting his tongue dart out to taste his skin, "prove it, then."

David dug his teeth in, opening the bite and rocking down against him, pressing their hips together, slotting them easily as if they always belonged there. His fingers tangled in his hair, holding his head steady as he licked and nipped at his throat, sliding a bloody trail back up to his mouth and kissing him possessively. Michael, in turn, responded just as enthusiastically, grinding his hips back against him and digging his fingers into David's back until his knuckles were white, running his tongue along David's fangs as he groaned into his mouth. His tongue ran over Michael's fangs, nicking his tongue on the sharp points, letting his blood spill past his lips. His hips bucked down, making both of them moan.

" _Want to take you, right here, show the world you're mine."_ He growled, thrusting again.

Michael gave a harsh gasp, pulling his hands back to David's shoulders and wedging a knee between David's legs to get a bit of leverage, flipping him over and straddling him in one swift movement with a cocky smile, "yeah?"

David chuckled softly, "Yeah." He rolled his hips up, "You could always make it easier, take a ride." He lifted his hips for emphasis.

He grew still above him, raising an eyebrow and quickly looking over his shoulders, "in _public?!_ " Apparently killing was one thing, but public exposure was just going too far.

"There's no one around, no one out on the beach, come on, live a little." He ground his hips up again. He chuckled softly, "Just tug your jeans down, no one'll ever know."

He leaned down and nuzzled at David's throat, "why don't you take a ride, then?" he suggested, nipping at the skin there and lapping at a drop of blood as it blossomed, red against white.

David growled, freeing himself and jerking at Michael's pants, "Not gonna happen." Somehow, Michael wasn't exactly sure how he did it, David had tugged his pants down just enough that he was able to thrust up and hit his mark.

" _Fuck!"_ Michael mentally cursed, digging his fangs into David's neck, and sinking down against him with an angry growl as he tore and pulled at the mark he was making.

David snarled, beginning to take him as hard as he was able considering he was under Michael, " _Keep going, Michael."_ He snarled lowly, biting his throat again in return.

It was violent. They weren't capable of anything less, because that simply wasn't in their nature. Once Michael was finally riding him, the high of their meal and the taste of his sire's blood in his mouth went a long way in easing the pain until it was numb enough for the physical pleasure to take center stage, each movement and buck of their hips pushing them both closer to the edge. David may not have started out very considerate but in the end he refused to come until Michael did. His fingers wrapped around his length, stroking quickly, trying to get him to fall over the edge first.

" _Fuck, you feel so good."_ He snapped up hard, " _Let go."_

Michael licked at the healing scar on David's neck, purring against him, " _stop bossing me around."_ He sighed, digging his fingers into David's hair and kissing him roughly to muffle the sound of his own cry when he finally came in his mate's hand. A final snap up and David released, moaning into his mouth, swallowing up the sound.

" _Fuck."_ He panted softly, although they didn't need to breathe there was just something about the afterglow that required they suck in mouthfuls of air.

Settling down against him, Michael gave a rough gasp, pressing his forehead to David's cheek, "I'm…" he panted, "gonna pin and fuck _you_ one of these days…"

David chuckled softly, "I'll be looking forward to it."


	14. Chapter 14

The lights came back on. Well, regular ones did. One-by-one, individual yellow lamps flickered to life all about the warehouse, until everyone was bathed in gold, and a man stood at a podium beside the tables of food. Sam could swear it hadn't been there before, but it was way too fast to just have been wheeled in.

He couldn't have been much older than Mike. With his slicked-back black hair and button-up white shirt, Sam was, for an instant...a little concerned they'd all been tricked into coming to some sort of weird 'teen church', but a glance back at the video games immediately trashed the idea. No church would induct kids into their fold with 'Gauntlet.'

"Glad you guys could make it," he began to talk. Ed and Alan slowly pried their arms from around Sam's torso and shoulders, and he was finally able to breathe as he listened in to whatever this guy was about to say. Maybe he was going to hand out coupons to a new arcade or something, have them fill out a survey…

"Don't worry, we've got more pizza coming soon, plenty of awesome shit to do," he went on, and several kids laughed, immediately hooked on this guy, apparently an authority figure, who wasn't afraid to cuss around them.

"We're gonna be here, every weekend, and the doors are always open for you guys, same time, same place. Buses are pretty much in Santa Carla all day, so you can even come by even earlier if you want. No strings attached...except one,"

Strings. There were always strings attached. Sam had been waiting for this.

"Enjoy yourselves." He finished with a flair. "Alright, kids, I'll be back later to take dessert orders. For now...like I said, just have fun."

Sam didn't like it, it was way too good to be true. He'd seen Pinocchio! He knew how this was going to end! He needed to talk to Mike. Maybe his brother had heard of this group or something at whatever place he was apparently working.

"I think I like this guy," Edgar grunted, leaning back against the arcade game. They were quickly flickering back on all across the building as the guy shifted and left his podium, making his way around the crowd and leaning towards a pair of kids here and there, pausing to chat, leaning in a little too close to a few of them in a way that would make Sam immediately react with a ball-kicking defensive reaction.

"I think I wanna go home," Sam sighed, glancing back at the Frog brothers. "Stop following me. I mean it. You guys need some serious help, and I'm not gonna tell Mike to take it easy if you run into him and he decides to kick your asses." At least that shut them up real quick, "I'm going home, if you guys want to stay here, that's on you." He stormed away from them, heading for the door, maybe someone could give him a ride.

"Hey," a guy at the door nodded to him. "Not liking the games?" He had that same funny look about him that a lot of people here seemed to have...a little moody-looking...a little withdrawn. Someone with serious issues, if Sam had to guess. Made sense, though, most kids who came to youth groups or whatever...they usually had problems, didn't they? He wasn't sure. He'd never actually been somewhere like this before.

Sam eyed him wearily, "No, they're fine, just ready to go home."

He smiled, flashing all of his pearly whites...if that was even possible, "already? Night's still pretty young. You sure about that?"

"Yeah, I'm sure, my brother's gonna be pissed if he finds I've been out so late." Because there was no way in hell he was ever going to let mom find out he'd gone to god knows where instead of the library like he'd promised.

He shrugged, glancing over at the guy who'd given his speech at the podium earlier. Funny...there were a lot of people looking at them, now, he realized...all at once…

"Alright," the guy pushed open the door, nodding at Sam, "I'll give you a lift. Buses aren't going to be running back for a couple more hours, but I think I can use Fa…Frank's car."

Now Sam was even more suspicious but what other choice did he have? He knew grandpa wasn't at the house. So, what, was he just going to call home and hope that Mike was there?He didn't have a number for his new place, no, this was his only option, "Alright, thanks."

"Any time," he nodded, offering a hand to Sam, "the name's Ryan. You need anything, just ask me."

"Sam." He replied softly, taking it slowly and shaking it. It was like ice.

* * *

Michael let out a puff of smoke, passing the joint back to David on his bike. They were still waiting for Paul to show up before heading back to the hotel. He must have found something fun to play with, because they'd been looking for him for the last half hour. David took it, taking in a slow breath before shaking his head.

"That asshole went and got himself lost again."

Lost? _Again_? "How long have you been in Santa Carla?" He asked out of the blue, scratching at his neck and glancing about at them.

"About a week," Marko snarked, biting at the thumb of his glove.

Dwayne caught at a girl's trailing braid as she brushed a little too close to them in passing, and winked when she jerked it from his hand and stormed off, " _I lost track."_

David looked thoughtful, "Hmmm, eighty years? No, longer than that…"

"How do you not know?" Michael leaned back, "were you human before you came here?"

Their leader let out a snort, "No, I wasn't human."

Now, _that_ was interesting…he was just about to dig deeper, when a familiar bobbing head appeared in the crowd. Paul. He was very nearly falling on his ass, too. No, didn't look like he'd be capable of riding on his own tonight…

" _Heeeeeeey,"_ Paul laughed, throwing an arm around Dwayne's shoulder and squeezing it, " _how's Dwayney-boy doing tonight, huh?"_ He reeked of an industrial level of rubbing alcohol. Enough to disinfect a hospital.

"Fuck, Paul, what did you get into?" Dwayne's nose crinkled up as he pushed him away, "Gonna have to drag you home tonight."

He snickered, just barely managing not to fall on his ass, "I feel...awesome…"

Michael gave David a sidelong glance, and then looked back at Paul...he wasn't really that sure he wanted to be around the idiot for the next few hours until whatever the hell he'd been drinking had a chance to level out, "I think I'm gonna go visit mom and Sam."

David raised an eyebrow, " _Gonna go mess with the human pets?"_ He questioned, looping an arm around Paul's shoulders and pulling him up.

He shrugged, " _beats doing detox tonight with the dipshit…"_ He looked at Paul, who was stumbling back against David and almost giggling at some unspoken joke nobody else got.

"Hey, guess what, Paul." David grinned, pulling him up again, "Marko gets to bring your bike home!" Marko rolled his eyes, giving Paul an exasperated look. This very likely wasn't the first time he'd been put on babysitting duty for Paul's antics, "Oh, and Marko, feel free to give it a dent or two."

"You know, three's a luckier number..." Marko replied dryly.

"You guys have fun," Michael hopped onto his bike, giving them a two-fingered salute before taking off.

First thing he noticed when he got to the house was grandpa's missing jeep. After that, he realized all the lights were off...except for the one in Sam's bedroom. Well, looked like he was going to be playing a couple of pranks on his little brother tonight.

He slipped into the house silently, leaving the front door open behind him, as he crept quickly upstairs. He'd been tempted to take the window route, but for the sake of one joke, he wasn't really keen on letting the cat out of the bag yet. The night they all found out was the same one he'd probably have to eat them.

"Sam," Michael knocked softly on his brother's bedroom door. "You up?"

"Mike? Yeah, I'm up, what're you doing here?" He opened the door, looking up at him.

"Just got outta work," he lied, pushing past him, "mom's asleep," he strolled over to Sam's bed and flopped down in it, kicking up his heels and crossing his ankles as he tucked his hands behind his head. "How've things been, huh?"

"Well, there's a bit of a problem…" It was obvious he wasn't sure where to start.

Michael relaxed, "yeah? What's the problem?" Now that he'd settled in, he realized there was an odd smell...mostly coming from Sam...he bit back the urge to growl. That was the same scent they'd picked up off the fuck back at the hotel...but it wasn't directly coming from his brother. It was just...wafting about him. Like he'd maybe run into one of them…

"What's the problem, Sam?" Michael repeated, unable to keep the slight edge from creeping into his tone.

"There's this group and, well, it just seems too good to be true! They've got a shit load of games, pizza, everything."

"Where are they?" He sat up, uncrossing his ankles.

He shrugged, "I dunno exactly, it was in Luna Bay, I know that." He scowled, "Why?"

"...it sounds fun," he replied flatly. It wasn't a very good lie. Michael hadn't ever really been into the kinds of games Sam was crazy about. He preferred real sports.

His scowl deepened, "It's weird, Mike, like they're some kind of freaky cult."

Yeah. No fucking kidding. "You going back?"

"I dunno, I dunno if I should but my friends…" He was obviously worried about them.

He'd kind of seen David doing this, once or twice, but Michael wasn't really sure whether he could. Still, he tried, "Sam, look me in the eyes and tell me, honestly, that you don't know where it is."

He looked at him, "I dunno, I wish I did."

"How did you get there, then?"

"We went by bus, hopped on and headed out." He scowled slightly, "Took awhile…"

"You going back?"

"Yeah, maybe," he sighed, "I dunno." He felt so conflicted, "What should I do?"

"When's the next time they're meeting up?" Michael threw his legs over the side of the mattress and leaned a bit closer.

"Next week."

A _week?_ "Meet up with them, Sam. Stall for time, and I'll meet up with you." He paused, "I work late." If they were still coming into Santa Carla, and just taking their meals elsewhere...or recruiting...or whatever the hell those crazy shits were doing, Michael had no intention of letting that slide, and he doubted the others would either. Sam, mom, grandpa...they were _his_ , and he wasn't about to let anyone else eat them if he could help it.

* * *

Sam had the funny feeling he was being interrogated. Funny thing was, he almost felt compelled to answer all of his questions...like he couldn't keep his mouth shut even if he tried. It was kind of freaky, and almost made him think twice about the bullshit the Frog brothers had been pestering him about.

But...this was _Mike..._ his brother...Maybe he just wanted to talk to him, and it was just the nervous energy betraying his ability to keep his mouth shut.

"Where do you work?" It suddenly struck him that he pretty much didn't know _anything_ about Mike anymore. Where he lived, what he did, or just about anything else. Like his brother was systematically cutting them all out of his life for reasons neither Sam nor their mom could even begin to understand.

"I work at a hotel," Michael shrugged, scooting over to give Sam space to sit down on the edge of his bed.

"Really? What do you do? Make beds?" He laughed, giving him a small smile.

He looked thoughtful, "maintenance. Extermination."

"I guess that's a step up. From picking up trash on the beach to the bug guy."

"I get by," Michael smirked. There was a joke he wasn't getting here. "There's plenty of huge bugs...keeps me busy."

Sam made a face, "Sounds gross." He paused, debating if he wanted to tell Mike about what the Frogs said, "Umm, hey, there's no more vampires, right? The Frogs told me they think you're one, totally crazy, right?"

"No, they're right. I'm definitely a vampire. Bonafide bloodsucking bastard. Just biding my time until I'm hungry, then I'll probably have a three-course dinner with Nanook for dessert." He grinned, slugging Sam's shoulder just a little too hard.

He yelped, laughing, "Asshole."

"I've gotta get going," he suddenly stood up from the bed, "I'll swing by for a visit in a few days. You give me the details about where you'll be and when." He paused, "and Sam…"

"Yeah?"

"Take a bath. You smell like death." He was gone before Sam could snap out a comeback. Not long after, there was a frantic scratching at the door.

Sam glared after him, "Hey! How would you know?!" Nanook whined in the hallway. Sam hopped up and opened his door, "Hey, buddy."

Immediately the husky rushed into his bedroom, nearly tackling Sam as he pressed up against him and pressed his head against his knees, barking and panting. He hadn't freaked out like this since…well, since ever. He rubbed down his sides, kissing the top of his head, "Do you miss Mike?"

Obviously he couldn't answer, but Nanook kept on, nervously pulling away from him and pacing the room, pausing only to scratch at the carpet in places. He shook his head, sitting up, "What's with you?" He grumbled, scowling slightly, "Did you get into something? You don't smell like skunk."

He huffed, striding back to the door and circling in front of it, before settling down on his haunches and staring at it intently, as if he were guarding Sam from some unseen thing lurking on the other side.


End file.
